The Struggle Within
by V.R. Jennings
Summary: A week before Dean's deal is up, the brothers decided to take on a werewolf case in Oregon. But once there, they realize that nothing is what it seems when they meet some new hunters that might or might not have the answers on how to save Dean. HURT!Dean
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: I want to give big thanks to darksupernatural who has been reading, reviewing, and helping me since the beginning of this story. Thank You! I also want give big thanks to Muffy Morrigan who has also taken the time off of her busy schedule to read and review it. Both of you guys are truly wonderful! THANK YOU!**

**Disclaimers: Please stop by my profile! :)**

The Struggle Within

**Chapter 1**

"So you mind telling me what we're doing here or are you going to continue with this silent treatment of yours?" Dean huffed, stealing a glance at his brother as he watched the locals exiting and entering the many various shops downtown Portland has to offer while waiting for the light to turn green.

Sam looked up from the numerous papers about their new case, all strewn about on his lap as well as the floor, and let out a long exasperated sigh and said, "Since we don't have the colt to go after Lilith and Ruby is God knows where, not to mention that you have only a week left, I just thought a simple hunt involving a werewolf might be a nice distraction for a change."

Before Dean could come out with a smart retort, Sam finished by gently saying, "Just think of it as your last hunt, Dean." Ever since Dean gave up on the thought of becoming immortal with the help of one Doc Benton, Sam has done all he could not to throttle his brother, so instead he settled for the 'silent treatment.'

As luck would have it, the light changed, forcing Dean's focus back on the road so he wouldn't have to look at his brother. "Already giving up on me, huh?" Dean said casually. He knew as much as his brother did that they are both cutting it quite close, but he was also grateful of a distraction even though he only wished it was more of a female-type distraction instead of another hunt. But no amount of distraction could take away the fear that has been slowly gnawing in the pit of his stomach of his impending doom.

Sam flinched and fidgeted in his seat, clearly uncomfortable with where this discussion was heading, deciding not to look at his brother, and instead focusing his attention on the various customers taking advantage of one clearance sale or another. "I'm not giving up on you man. Not by a long shot, but seeing as there's not much we can do right now, a hunt in which we can save people is a lot better for you and me than you meeting up with some random chick and playing doctor, and besides, I'm still working on how to get you out of your deal and possibly, hopefully kill Lilith in the process." _Dean, I can help__but Lilith….now that's a whole different ballgame._

Ever since losing their mother to a demon when Sammy was just six months old, and then losing Sam's girlfriend, Jessica, as well as their father to the same demon in which Sam had felt completely helpless in both situations, he feels that now with Dean's deal looming ever closer, failure was not going to be an option. After everything Dean has done for him from practically raising him when their father was off on hunts to teaching, nurturing and protecting him from anything and everything that is bad in the world; never asking for anything in return, Sam feels that he owes it to Dean to save him.

As Dean made a left turn to take them out of downtown Portland and into the outskirts of the city, he quickly gave Sam an irritable scowl and shook his head. _Damn, how the hell did he know I was hoping for a chick?_ _It's like the kid can just read my mind. Better keep your game face on Winchester or he can read you like an open book without using his unbelievably mind-reading Jedi crap._

Dean straightened himself in the seat and planted the infamous smirk on his face, "And exactly how do you plan on destroying Lilith 'cause last time I checked she demolished an entire building with its occupants still inside it?" They took Agent Henricksen's death quite hard, especially Dean since he felt himself bonding with the same man who did everything in his power to bring in the Winchesters.

The question hung heavily in the air, stifling any kind of comfortable silence, not even with Dean fumbling with the radio in search of a local classic rock radio station in vain hope to bring some kind of comfort, at least for the meantime while searching for a motel.

Glancing away at the road to look at his brother, Dean noticed that Sam was anxious about something and was having a guilt trip. _No doubt he's worried about the deal._

"So uh," Dean cleared his throat, "so college boy, you mind telling me where the nearest motel is?" Hoping to steer the conversation down a lighter path than what they were discussing before.

Sam visibly relaxed, knowing exactly what his brother was doing, and feeling very grateful for it. Smiling, he said, "Stay on this road for about 2 ½ miles and one should be on your right."

"What would I ever do without you?" Dean asked wistfully.

"I dunno. You'd probably ask someone like Jessica Simpson for the directions and she'll lead you to her bedroom. That is, once you got her drunk enough to fall for someone like you, dude, but still sober enough to know where her bedroom is." Sam said smartly.

"Dude! The only chick you should get drunk enough to have you is that Ugly Betty chick." Dean mockingly pondered that and added, "Come to think on it, I think you should get drunk enough too just to tolerate her."

"Whatever dude." Sam laughed, not remembering a time when they laughed like this when Dean's death was hovering above both of them, mocking them of their failure on saving Dean.

_Finally!_ Dean almost sighed in relief as he turned in the parking lot of a motel on the outskirts of Portland, the 'Vacancy' neon sign flickering on and off, unsure if it wants to give up. The only motel within a 100-mile radius it seemed (not counting the expensive motels and hotels littered across the city). As dilapidated as the motel looked, it no doubt would serve its purpose.

"Please tell me they have at least a decent room with decent cable this time," whined Dean as he got out of the car and headed to the main office to book them in for the night.

Shaking his head as he too got out of the car to stretch his legs after he gathered up all the loose paper, Sam laughed, "Hasn't anyone told you that you whine and bitch like the next girl?"

Sam laughed some more when Dean gave him the one finger salute right before he entered the office. His laughter soon died out when his attention caught on a suspicious looking black Hummer driving in the parking lot and parking in the other side of the main office out of Sam's line of sight.

To the untrained eye, the Hummer might look like any normal everyday vehicle, but to Sam, it was more than your normal typical vehicle. For starters, the tinted windows looked too tinted and especially in the growing darkness that night was bringing, the windows made it impossible to see the owners. That, and the lone fact that Sam has gotten a weird vibe coming from whoever owns that Hummer.

_That's one very expensive vehicle_. Sam pondered while waiting for his brother to produce the keys to their room. Just when Sam began to speculate on why the owners of the Hummer want to stay in a dump like this rather than stay at a five-star hotel suite in Portland, he looked up when Dean whistled him to get his attention.

"Hey, didn't you hear a single word I just said?" Dean asked, eyebrows raised in obvious annoyance. When he saw that he had finally gotten his baby brother's attention, he said, "I said I got the keys and it's time we can turn in for the night."

"Sorry Dean, I just got distracted." With a mischievous glint in his eye, he added, "I mean, exactly how did you ever manage to obtain and keep a girl's attention on you for a whole night, much less a minute?" Sam teased.

Sam ducked just in time when Dean snaked his hand to smack his brother across the head, but settled instead for saying the inevitable "Bitch" as the corners of his lips twitched up in mirth.

"Jerk," Sam automatically replied as he got into the passenger side while Dean got behind the wheel and drove the Impala and parked right in front of their room.

As Sam got out and went to the back to get his bag, he finally noticed that the ominous-looking Hummer was parked just a few doors down from them. He then noticed that they and whoever the Hummer belonged to appeared to be the only occupants in the entire broken-down motel.

As soon as Dean entered the motel with his bag in tow and took one quick look at the interior, he was ready to march right out of there and spend the night drinking at some local bar, and maybe hook up with some chick later on. But just as he was making his plans, he thought about why they were there in the first place and realizing that he couldn't give himself some leisure time such as drinking and sex while someone's life might be at stake. What he too realized was that Sammy didn't follow him into their room, but instead was outside, looking at a Hummer as if it was some dangerous relic, maybe something of great importance.

"Sammy, are you coming in or are you planning to stay out all night?" barked Dean. _Now what has gotten Sammy so riled up?_ As long as Dean lives, Sam will always be known as Sammy to him, even when his brother had told him time and time again that he wanted to be called 'Sam' instead of 'Sammy'. Before he started to say something else to his brother, 'Sam' quickly shut the trunk door closed and stepped into the room.

Their motel room was as ordinary and bland as it can be coming from a dump like this. The walls were white, the ceiling was white, the bathroom was white and even the bedcovers were white. The only color that makes its presence known was the maroon carpet and the maroon sheets. Old movie posters from the 50s decorated the walls while an antique mahogany table with matching chairs and bed tables made Sam think that the owner of the establishment was either color-blind or he just likes a lot of white. Whatever the reason, Sam is sure to be sick of the color white from now on.

Apparently Dean was on the same line of thought when he grumbled, "Who in hell would want to stay in a white box? Dude, I mean honestly, he didn't seem like he was color-blind…"

Sam just let Dean's grumbling continue while he let his mind wonder back to whoever owned the Hummer as he set his bag down on the bed farthest from the door. It wasn't that he had never seen a Hummer up close before, heck he's driven one of his friends' yellow Hummer before back at Stanford, and while he loved the illusion of power and money it gave him, he had missed his brother's shiny black '67 Chevy Impala where he felt more comfortable, more in control, and more at home. No, it wasn't that. It was the fact that whoever owned that Hummer had to be rich enough to spend an entire year at one of the exclusive hotels Portland offered if they wanted to, and not at a dump like this. Considering the increase of gas prices, Dean and Sam were having enough trouble as it was just finding a decent motel with a working bathroom practically in the middle of nowhere where prices were so outrageous.

_What are they doing here? Who are they? Why here of all places? Why now? Are they friend or foe? Or do I just chuck it all as paranoia? Great, wait until Dean hears about this._ As Sam's thoughts kept clashing onto one another while he brought in the papers of the case and placed them on the table, he knew deep down that whoever owned that Hummer had some dangerous business to do. _Why else would they have picked such a secluded place like this? For all I know they're probably Lilith's goons come to finish us off….wait a minute, demons don't need to drive a Hummer all the way to kill us, do they?_ _Well maybe it won't hurt to find out who they are…better to be safe than sorry, right?_

Sam felt a little relieved once he reached to his resolution on uncovering the truth behind the mysterious Hummer.

"Do you know you look cute whenever you scrunch your eyebrows in concentration? It's almost like watching a pit bull puppy being constipated for the first time." Dean teased.

Sam started, "Huh? What?" as he felt his face grow red realizing that he got caught lost in his own thoughts.

"I asked if you wanted to take a shower first."

"Oh, uh no. You go on ahead."

"You do realize that you're gonna have to tell me what has gotten you so wrapped up about?"

"Yeah I know, but not now okay? And don't use all the hot water this time." Sam said as he watched Dean disappear behind the bathroom door. He was also pondering telling his older brother about the Hummer, but thought better not to just in case it was nothing.

While Sam heard the water starting in the bathroom, his cell phone rang. He was in no mood to answer whoever was in the other end and had a good mind on letting whoever it was to just leave a message, but thought better of it in case it was someone important like Bobby.

Sure enough when he opened his cell phone and saw the name 'Bobby' displayed on the screen, he greeted, "Hey Bobby, is everything okay? Have you found anything yet? Where are you?"

"Whoa kid, one question at a time," replied the, deep concerned voice of their old friend Bobby Singer. Bobby had known the Winchesters since Dean and Sam were just kids and even though he never really agreed with how their father, John Winchester, raised them, he had always treated Dean and Sam as his own children which consequently granted him the name of 'Uncle Bobby', and ever since the untimely demise of John Winchester, Bobby had stepped into the role as their surrogate father.

"So how are you and Dean?" Bobby asked pointedly avoiding Sam's questions. _If they knew where I'm at much less what I'm doing….no, its best they don't know anything, at least not yet._

Sam let out another exasperated sigh as he sat down on the edge of his bed, _seems like I've been doing that a lot lately._ "Well considering that Dean has only a week left and we are no closer to finding Lilith than we were the week before, I guess we're doing alright."

"But that's assuming Bela was telling the truth about Lilith –"

"Bobby, don't you think Bela went through a lot of trouble stealing the colt from right under our noses and giving it to Lilith to get herself out of the deal?"

"Hey, don't forget that part where Lilith ordered her to kill you."

"I haven't forgotten it, but as seeing we don't really have any other leads on getting Dean out of his deal and the only substantial lead we have which is Bela's word, then I don't see any reason why we should not think Lilith is the one that's holding Dean's contract." Sam refuted.

"Look, all I'm saying is that we should at least be careful before we go poking into some demon's lair and getting ourselves killed for nothing."

"And that's only if we knew where Lilith is hiding."

"I'm working on that –"

"How?" Sam asked suspiciously. "What are you doing Bobby? Where are you?"

"Where are you?" Bobby asked, once again avoiding Sam's questions.

"We're in Portland solving a werewolf case, why?"

"Portland, huh? Well tell me where you're staying at and I'll be there in about two days, okay?"

By the time Sam finished the call by giving the directions to the motel, Dean came out in a billow of steam already changed into his boxers and t-shirt, yawning and asking, "So who was on the phone?"

Sam barely gave Dean a glance before replying, "That was Bobby. And before you ask, he said he'll be here in about two days." Sam gathered up his stuff and rushed into the bathroom before Dean could say anything, escaping any interrogation from his brother.

Dean continued looking at the closed bathroom door to where his brother disappeared a moment longer, lost in his own thoughts. He knew that whatever was bothering his brother must not be good, but what else could he do? Beat the poor kid into submission?

Dean entertained himself with that thought as he plopped down on his bed, crossed his legs and put his left arm under his head - and turning on the tv, settled on watching a breaking news report.

"_We are just outside of the Michaels' residence where police have stated a massive murder case of such has never been seen here in Portland before. According to officials, a family of five has been brutally killed by what some might say was a 'wild animal'. No word yet as to what type of animal it might be or how it got in…."_

"Well, so much for the werewolf theory," Sam said, dressed in his boxers and t-shirt, a towel in one hand drying his hair, not noticing he startled Dean out of his reverie.

"What do you mean? It could still be a werewolf doing this for all we know," Dean said stubbornly, sitting up and turning off the tv.

"True, but how many werewolves do we know that don't follow the pattern?" Sam argued back, sitting on the edge of his bed. "I mean, consider this Dean, what werewolf do we know that can kill a whole family? Werewolves can either kill or infect at least one person per night on a full moon. The only problem is that there is no full moon tonight."

"Well, what about a wendigo?" Dean said indigently.

"Don't you think wendigos are hard-pressed to be roaming around a city killing families?"

"Okay so if you don't think it's a wendigo and you don't think it's a werewolf even though _I_ think it is, then please enlighten me with your college education and tell me what you think." Dean said innocently.

Sam wasn't sure if that was a compliment or just a sarcastic remark but he went on ahead and said, "I'm not sure but whatever it is, I think we should at least do some more research before we go up against whatever we're dealing with."

* * *

The next day found the Winchesters sitting at a restaurant, eating breakfast and doing research...or more like Sam was doing the research while Dean was doing all the listening.

"Hey geek boy, have you found anything yet?" Dean knew he already asked that five minutes ago, but it didn't mean he couldn't annoy his little brother some more.

"Dean, the next time you ask that I'm going to –" Sam cut himself off short, realizing a little too late that he was falling for his big brother's bait, so instead he said with a frustrated sigh, "We pretty much know everything there is to know about the werewolf lore, but I guess we need to see the bodies of the victims killed and the crime scene."

"So you still don't think a werewolf could've done this?" Dean asked while keeping an eye on a certain blonde waitress who was doing a successful job on getting his attention.

When Dean didn't get the desired result from Sam, he gave up on the waitress to look outside at a certain black Hummer that was patiently waiting for a light to turn green, and which had gotten Sam's attention.

Sam had been wondering where the Hummer went when he didn't find it outside this morning. _Wherever it's going can't be good…_

"Earth to Sam," Dean said, snapping his fingers and waving his hand in front of Sam's face. When that worked, he said, "Now do you mind telling me what has gotten you so riled up?"

"Huh?"

"Dude, you have been staring at the Hummer for the past couple of minutes. Is something up?"

Sam picked at his food a moment longer while contemplating telling Dean about that damn Hummer. _Well, I guess now's a good time as ever._

"Dean," he started carefully, studying his brother closely, "does that Hummer look anything at all ominous to you?"

Dean contemplated that for a second as he looked at the Hummer again. "Uh, besides the fact that you look like you haven't seen one before?"

When he saw how serious Sam was, he asked uncertainly, "Why, should it?"

"No, it shouldn't," Sam readily agreed. "But for some reason I can't shake the strange vibe I've been getting from that Hummer. And if I'm not mistaken, I think that Hummer is heading straight to the morgue to probably check out the dead victims before we do."

Dean looked at him incredulously. "Don't you think you're being a little bit paranoid?"

Before Sam could come up with a reply, Dean put up his hands and added, "Tell you what. If it'll make you feel better, why don't we go on ahead and beat them to the dead bodies?"

* * *

"So what do you want to be today? Reporters, detectives, agents, or local university students?" Sam asked as he held up the box containing numerous fake ids of everything known to mankind.

Dean contemplated that himself while he drove around the facility, hazel eyes darting everywhere for that damn black Hummer, mostly to ease Sam's nerves of course. When he was satisfied that he didn't find it, he turned to Sam and said, "Definitely agents. I've been wanting to try out the names 'Wood' and 'Taylor' for some time now."

Sam shakes his head, chuckling as he grabbed the ids. "Isn't Wood and Taylor former members of the Rolling Stones?"

"Yeah, but does it matter? Their music's awesome anyway dude." Dean said as he parked his beloved Impala and got out.

Sam quickly joined him and soon they were heading to the morgue. This morgue wasn't unlike all the other morgues the brothers had visited over the years. The cold, dead feeling it gave Sam never seemed to disappoint, making him wish to get out of there as soon as possible, but just like every other job they've done, he had to suck it up.

Dean, on the other hand, hated such places as hospitals and morgues, but throw in a pretty girl like the red-headed one that's approaching with a clipboard in her hands, and he's as happy as a kid in a candy store.

Before the red-head could say anything, Dean and Sam flashed their fake FBI badges while Dean said in a professional tone, "I'm Agent Taylor and this is my partner Agent Wood and –"

"As in the former members of the Rolling Stones?" the red-headed girl cut in putting down the clipboard on an already littered desk, clearly amused. "I'm Marissa Gibbons, the morgue assistant by the way, and I'm assuming you're here for the victims from yesterday's attack, am I right?"

Both Dean and Sam looked stumped, but then Sam quickly recovered by asking, "How did you know?"

Marissa quickly scrutinized both brothers with a steely glare, folding her arms and arching her perfectly shaped eyebrow, clearly not believing that they were agents. "Because apparently somebody else from the FBI was here this morning for the dead bodies, unless you're here to tell me that you need more of you to do the investigation," challenging them.

"Now if you really don't want me to call the _proper_ authorities and have you two arrested, then I suggest that you turn right around and leave." The assistant continued when neither brother bothered to respond, clearly emphasizing the word 'proper'.

Dean with his eyebrows raised, glanced at his brother while seriously considering doing what Marissa suggested: tail tucked between the legs and run. Just five minutes standing in the same room with her was already making Dean feel like he's under the same roof with Missouri Mosley: they know crap when they see it. _Okay Sammy, I guess your theory about the Hummer-owner might right._

Fortunately Sam came to the rescue. Putting his hands up in a gesture to calm the doctor, he said using those puppy-dog eyes of his, "Ms. Gibbons, it's just that our partners just called us to investigate, more like to cross reference everything you've told them."

She raised her eyebrows at that and kept on scrutinizing them for what seemed like an eternity before she nodded her head to a room behind her and told them to follow her, still not believing them but unsure of how to handle the situation. After all, she's just an intern with not a lot of experience, but it doesn't mean that she can't detect BS when it was right in front of her.

The room that they were led into was like any other morgue containing an unknown amount of dead bodies still waiting to be autopsied.

Sam shuddered as he thought about the time when Dean goaded him to examine a decapitated head of a vampire. No doubt Dean was thinking around the same line when he looked back at Sam and smiled knowingly, liking the fact that he was making Sam uncomfortable. Anyway, if Sam had to examine another dead corpse, he'll put his foot down and stubbornly have Dean do it instead.

As Marissa got the bodies ready to be examined by the agents, both brothers were trying hard to ready their stomachs as the unpleasant odor was taking up the oxygen around them. The brothers as well as the doctor almost gagged when she pulled the covers off to fully show what kind of condition the bodies were left after the grisly attack.

"Huh." Both brothers said in unison after one look at what was supposed to be the father…

* * *

Outside as Sam looked around him and noted that a storm looked ready to erupt sometime during the day judging by the ominous-looking clouds looming over the city, he sighed and turned to Dean, not realizing that what he was about to voice was the exact same thing his brother was thinking."Do you think whoever owned the Hummer might be the FBI agent that Marissa was referring to? And what about the bodies? What do you make of those?"

Sam didn't wait for a response before asking, "Now what do we do?"

Dean kept looking around them as they headed towards the Impala in vain hope of catching the owner of the Hummer, senses on high alert. Truth be told, the fact that someone was investigating the same case as he and Sam, rather it might be another hunter or not, was starting to make him feel a little uneasy. As far as he and Sam are concerned, they were not looking forward to meeting another Gordon Walker anytime soon.

Dean continued to marvel at how a supposedly good hunter as Gordon Walker could be so twisted into thinking that anything supernatural were considered 'evil'. Granted, Gordon might had some good reasons, but if it was involving killing Sammy, then Dean was more than willing to throw the old rule-book out and terminate anyone who would so much as raise one finger to his Sammy.

"Well," Dean said after a moment as he started the engine, "we can go to the crime scene tonight and hopefully beat whoever it is to the punch. And as for the bodies…we'll catch that sonofabitch that did it," he added coldly. "No one deserves to be slaughtered like that."

As the Impala left the parking lot, neither brother noticed the occupants of a particular black Hummer watching them like a hungry predator stalking its prey.

**TBC...**

**A/N: If y'all like it, please leave a review! :)**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

After a hearty meal of a high-cholesterol cheese burger with fries for Dean and a simple diet of a Cesar Salad for Sam, coupling with a couple of beers for both of them, the time for breaking and entering a crime scene couldn't have been better.

The storm that had been threatening to break all day looked like it won't until tomorrow, which just adds a small favor to the Winchesters considering their luck.

"Do you think I should make one more round around the block for that damn Hummer?" Dean asked, clearly agitated and bothered, as much as Sam is by the owner, eyes ceaselessly darting everywhere for anything that might resemble the vehicle.

"Sure Dean, but you've already made two rounds so far and came up with nothing. And now all we have to do is wait until that patrol car to make its round and leave." Sam said referring to the cop car driving slowly around the neighborhood, hoping to be the one to catch the killer and be given a promotion.

The Impala was parked two blocks away from the scene of the crime, but their position gives them not only a perfect hiding spot, thanks to the raven darkness night brings, but also a clear view of the three-story house itself located in one of Portland's upper echelon.

Once the patrol car left, Sam stepped out of Impala and met his brother at the back of the car, patiently waiting for his brother to open the trunk to reveal the various weapons that littered the trunk, innocently waiting to be used.

Even though they were going investigating, Dean and Sam were always prepared for anything, checking their trusty .45s to make sure it was loaded, and also making sure to bring extra cartridges while taking flashlights.

Upon approaching the backdoor to the supposedly uninhabited house, Sam just couldn't ignore his instincts screaming at him to be on high alert any longer as he looked behind him every few minutes expecting something to jump him. Dean on the other hand, looked completely at ease even though Sam could tell by the muscle twitching in his brother's cheek as well as the iron grip he had on the flashlight that he too was on high alert.

Both brothers grew more worrisome and alerted when they found the backdoor completely unlocked, or as Sam had pointed out, the door looked like it had been lock-picked. They had no doubt that it was the owner of the Hummer; it was too much of a coincidence not to think it is, and of course, the Winchesters never believed in coincidences.

They moved stealthily through room after room, using their flashlights only when necessary so as not to alert anybody to their presence, when they heard a sudden noise, which 

sounded like a cell phone vibrating, coming from the kitchen that was located on the far east of the place.

Using the marine hand signals that his father taught him, Dean signaled Sam to cover him as they both pulled out their Glocks with one hand while holding their flashlights in the other, making sure it's turned off so as not to alert their position. As they used the moon as the only source of light, they quickly and silently approached the kitchen.

Sam barely held back an audible grunt as he stubbed his toe on an overstuffed sofa, hoping that whoever is in the house with them didn't hear it. But as Winchester luck would have it, the vibration sound of the cell phone suddenly stopped as if the owner somehow realized that someone else was in the house, throwing the brothers into an eerie absence of sound.

By the time the sound stopped, Dean and Sam was flanking the entrance to the kitchen, waiting for some other sound that would give away the owner's position before going in blindly.

After a few minutes in which no other sound came from the kitchen, Dean signaled Sam to once again cover him as he forced entryway, clicking on his flashlight in the last minute hoping to surprise the owner, Sam right behind him doing the same.

It took Sam less than a second to realize that the cold steel pressed against his back was actually a gun. It took Sam more than a second to realize the lonely cell phone sitting next to the sink was nothing but bait. They were led into a trap.

"Drop your weapons," said a voice authoritatively, one gun aiming at Sam's back, and raising another, aiming it at Dean threateningly when he hesitated, "now, or you'll regret it."

Sam, not looking to piss off his captor, dropped his weapon and his flashlight, putting his hands up in a gesture of surrender, eyes drilling holes at the back of his brother's head, silently warning him not to do anything stupid.

In the meantime, Dean made a quick calculation to see if he could disarm the person holding his baby brother at gun point and ensure his safety, but decided not to risk it since he wasn't close enough and would only give the person reason enough to start shooting. He could actually feel his brother drilling holes at the back of his head, warning him not to try anything reckless, but judging the fact that the person holding all the cards actually sounds like a woman, he thought he could charm her into letting his baby brother go and that they could all leave in peace. That was not the case when he dropped his weapon and the flashlight as he turned around to face her, hands put up like his brother.

She did not at all look like she was in the mood to be charmed, dissuaded, compromised, or anything up the Dean Winchester rule-book on how to handle women. She looked like she wanted to be given a reason or an excuse to start shooting.

Once both brothers were disarmed, she demanded, "Who are you?"

Dean looked at her indigently, lowering his hands and asked, "Who are you?"

When Sam glanced behind him to look at the woman and sensing that she is not taking a liking to his brother and just might shoot him, he quickly said, "I'm Sam and this is my brother Dean," warning his brother with his eyes to keep his mouth shut.

"Winchester?" the woman asked uncertainly, eyes darting between both brothers, not ready to put away her weapons yet.

Both brothers looked at each other, unsure of who she is or how she knew their surname, but replied "Yeah," followed by "How'd you know?" from Dean.

The woman slowly lowered her weapons, keeping a wary eye on both of them, uncertain if they could be trusted.

"Met your father once. He was a great man," she said, still wary of them, "and I'm sorry to hear he had passed away." She added as an afterthought.

As the brothers nodded in acceptance of her condolences, Sam finally took a good look at her. As petite as she is, it was no wonder why the gun reached to the middle of his back and not at his head. Shaking his head at the irony of having someone that appeared to be no taller than 5'3, holding a gun at him and making him feel vulnerable enough that he saw his life flashed before his eyes, was truly unbelievable even for Winchester standards.

"And who are you?" voiced Sam, curiously as he suddenly realized that they still don't know who this mystery woman is.

She looked up at him like she wasn't at all intimidated by his 6'4 frame, and said, "I do apologize for my rudeness. My name is Elizabeth. Elizabeth Montgomery. And if you two don't mind, _we_ don't need your help, but there are others that do. If y'all are interested, there's a wendigo that's needed taken cared of up north as well as a poltergeist that's just asking to be put out of its misery two states south. That being said, I'm sure you two can show yourselves out the door." She smiled sweetly.

Both brothers stared at her and at each other while she was making her speech, unsure of what to say, and continued staring at her long after she picked up her phone, left the kitchen and started climbing the stairs, no doubt heading for the master bedroom.

"What the hell just happened?" Dean asked after a few minutes, still baffled and a little irritated at the idea that a simple woman _almost_ got the better of him as he jammed a thumb back towards the entrance indicating the woman.

"I think she wanted us to leave," Sam said, a little amazed at the audacity and fearlessness she possessed when confronting them as he picked up his weapon and flashlight.

"No shit, Captain Obvious," Dean said as he mulled over the next course of action, picking up his own weapon and flashlight and deciding that no matter what, they were not leaving until this case was solved. Just the thought of trying to convince this Elizabeth that she and whoever is with her might need their help is looking like it might be a tough job even for the great Dean Winchester himself.

"You think we should follow her?" Sam said, ignoring him and practically voicing what he was just thinking.

"Sure. I don't see why not. I mean how bad could this night get?"

"Considering our luck Dean, bad. But if there are more females like her roaming around here, then I'll leave you to handle them alone."

"Ha, thanks. More for me then."

"But that's only _if_ you can handle them," Sam continued ribbing him. "And if you can't, well, then you might disgrace our gender on letting a petite woman kick your ass."

"Don't worry about that, I'll just tag in my freakishly tall little brother to come and save the day. And if _you _can't, well Sammy, it's nice knowing ya." Dean patted him on the back as if already saying farewell.

"Whatever dude. So I guess it's time to meet our maker." Sam said in such a mockingly heartfelt sigh of resignation.

Once Sam saw his brother nodding in agreement, they both clicked on their flashlights, acting a little bit more confident than they were a moment ago when they entered the house, and followed Elizabeth up the stairs.

It wasn't hard to find where the master bedroom was located since they heard not only Elizabeth's voice, but two other female voices in the same room as well.

"Is it me or are they speaking Spanish?" Dean whispered as he clicked off his flashlight and quietly approached the bedroom.

"It's not just any border Spanish, Dean," Sam clarified as he too clicked off his flashlight, "it sounds more like Spanish from Spain. I wonder why though."

"Thanks for the language course, Sasquatch," Dean threw over his shoulder at Sam sarcastically as he turned the knob and headed inside, his brother closely following.

Sam was just about to suggest that they should at least knock first, but decided against it after his brother's last remark.

He wished he should have voiced his suggestion to his brother after he saw what was waiting for them on the other side of the door.

As big and spacious at the bedroom looked upon entering, it now looked small and overly crowded now that the two huge, broad-shouldered brothers, averaging well over 6 feet, had entered at their own risk.

Dean's breath was taken away by the sight of a dark-haired girl situated at a window overlooking the streets, clearly on a lookout for the local authorities. But to say that he was taken away by her beauty would probably be an understatement once he realized that the gun that she had in her hand was now aiming at his head, the look in her eyes saying that she would not hesitate pulling the trigger.

He soon noticed another girl sitting on the edge of a big king size bed also holding a gun in her hand, this time aiming it at Sam's head. He quickly ignored her and locked his eyes with the one near the window, holding a silent conversation with her as if daring her to shoot. After a while, she conceded, lowering her weapon enough to not pose a threat, but not lowered enough to show that she was still in control, looking at him with complete distrust.

Apparently Elizabeth hadn't gotten around to telling the other two that she met the Winchesters on her way on exploring the kitchen.

"What the hell are you two doing here? Didn't I tell you to leave?" Elizabeth fired the questions at them at once while signaling to the two women to put down their own weapons.

"Please don't tell me you've lost your way around the house." She said this last with an exasperated sigh, pinching the bridge of her nose, making it look like it was their fault she was getting a headache.

She soon looked up at her sisters when she felt their eyes on her, silently asking questions of their own. _Might as well get it over sooner now rather than later._ "This is Sam and Dean Winchester," she said, indicating to the two men, making the introductions. Turning to the brothers, she said, "This is Monica," indicating to the woman standing near the window, "and this here is Jennifer," indicating the woman sitting on the bed.

Once everyone acknowledged one another, Sam asked, suddenly intrigued and yet very wary of the three hunters, "So what exactly are you three hunting?"

Jennifer blinked at him and said, "A werewolf," as if it was the most common thing in the world.

"Really? Well, what kind of werewolf do you know that can not only maul their victims and go after large rather large families, but has been able to change when there is no full moon?" Sam continued his interrogation, looking from one sister to the next.

"True. That's not a MO for a typical werewolf, which is why y'all should just leave and let us take care of it." Monica said, turning towards the window, folding her arms and keeping a lookout.

"How do you know you're even hunting a werewolf? It could be something else." Sam countered, looking to his brother to back him up in this conversation.

Dean, Sam noted, was not exactly paying attention to where the discussion was heading, but was instead observing the interaction between his brother and the three hunters. Sam noted as well that the only person who Dean's eyes kept glancing back furtively is the one that is succeeding in not wanting to look at anyone, more specifically Dean, and instead settling down to look out the window.

"Well, what else do you think it is? A demon?" Elizabeth asked patronizingly as she sat down on the bed next to her sister, folding her arms and crossing her legs, and looking at both brothers. She too noticed that Dean is mighty interested in Monica, and she is not happy about it.

"Could be," Sam conceded, "but whatever it is, there is no possible way that a werewolf could have done it. I mean who knows? A black dog might be the one behind it."

"I don't think Cujo might have anything to do with it. Let me ask you something. Have you done your research lately?" Jennifer asked innocently as she too folded her arms and crossed her legs, also not intimidated by Sam's tall frame.

For the life of him, Sam could not remember a time where a female made him feel so obtuse, so unsure of himself, and so inadequate like what Jennifer was doing to him. So what if he didn't do his homework to find out if there was another cause for the murders? All he knew was that there was nothing in werewolf lore that mentioned that they could skin the victims alive. So, of course, it has to be something else.

"W-What do you mean?" Sam stuttered after a moment in silence, suddenly uncomfortable.

As if by some miracle, Monica recognized what Jennifer was doing and what Sam might be feeling, and decided to play referee before things could get ugly. Only very few have actually experienced Jennifer's destructive ways. It wasn't that Jennifer is a bad person, far from it, but she does tend to unknowingly break people down by going after their morals – what builds up their self-esteem. In the case of Sam, she went after his capability of doing research – something he always prided himself in.

"Please forgive my sister Sam for she does not know when to shut up." Monica said, glaring threateningly at her sister while Jennifer was glaring right back at her.

"Anyway, the research my sister was so _kind_ enough to mention," Monica continued, glaring at her sister when she sarcastically said the word 'kind', and then turned her attention to Sam, "was that even we made sure that there wasn't anything else supernatural going on."

"But how do you know it was a werewolf? Do you even have any substantial evidence pointing to the cause of a werewolf?" Sam asked desperately, hoping for these girls to see his logical point of view, knowing for sure that he is right.

"Listen to me Sam," Monica said, her voice lowered and clear, looking like her patience is running thin, "because I'm only going to say this once. We have been tracking this werewolf for some time now, and it has led us here. Both Henricksen and Montgomery had assured us that it is here. Granted, we don't know where, and we as sure as hell know that the murders last night were not your average werewolf MO. So the simple truth is, is that the creature we are looking for is indeed a werewolf. If you want to, you and your brother could tag along and we'll prove it to you."

The name 'Henricksen' struck a chord within Dean and for the first time since the conversation started, he found his voice and decided to join in.

"Henricksen?" Dean asked, puzzled if he heard that name right.

Sam who had been so engrossed in the discussion, almost jumped out of his skin at the sound of his older brother, clearly forgotten that his brother was in the same room.

Apparently Elizabeth and Jennifer jumped too as well since they forgot that Dean was in the same room, but amazingly Monica was not the slightest bit surprised at hearing Dean's voice for the first time. Actually, she was waiting for it.

What she wasn't waiting for was the sudden feeling of butterflies in her stomach when she made the mistake of making eye contact: dark brown eyes meeting hazel green eyes for the first time.

Monica was the first to break the eye contact after what seemed like an eternity, not knowing what that small contact was making her feel. She knows she feels a tad bit interested in him, but she does not want to find out what that might lead to. She's not just willing to lay down her guard and let someone like him (those kinds of guys mothers usually warn their daughters about) take advantage of her.

"Yeah. As in Victor Henricksen. Of the FBI." Elizabeth stated, not liking Dean at all and what he was doing to her sister.

"I thought he was dead." Sam imputed, also unsure if they are talking about the same man he and Dean met not too long ago.

"It's a long story best saved for another day, but to make this incredibly long story short, he's very much alive and protected. Oh, and he's not part of the FBI anymore." Elizabeth said, not at all surprised that they knew him.

"And Montgomery?" Sam inquired.

"That would be my husband. He worked with Henricksen on the same case he was obsessed about. You know the one about bringing in the elusive Dean Winchester." Elizabeth informed, liking the idea that she knew more about them than they knew about her and her sisters.

"How'd you know about that?" Dean asked, deciding once again to join in the conversation.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" Elizabeth said smiling smugly as if she's the cat that got the cream.

After a hard poke in the ribs from her sister though, she relented. "Fine. How the hell did you think you and Sam went under the FBI radar for so long before the 'accident' where Henricksen 'supposedly' died?"

When neither brother had the faintest clue, she continued, "My husband, Michael, kept on giving Henricksen false leads after he found out who you were…of course, that was after the little stunt you two pulled with the bank incident. He was reassigned to another case when they started investigating him of falsely leading Henricksen."

"So your husband was helping us? Why?" Dean asked curiously. _One of these days if I can strike up the courage, I'll ask pretty little Monica on a real date. What the hell? 'If I can strike up the courage'?! I'm not a freakin' teenage boy asking a girl out on a first date! Get back in the game Winchester._

"If there was one thing I learned from time spent on hunting, it was that no matter how much of a jackass we hunters can be to each other, we always protect each other from the rest of the world. Well at least that's what we thought at first before we met Gordon and then Bela." Elizabeth said as she shared a dark look with her sisters, each remembering about the two hunters who almost cost them everything.

Dean and Sam looked at each other, both of them at a loss for words knowing that the sisters were sharing a private moment, but at the same time, both were now more curious as to what Gordon and Bela did to them.

"Ah guys," Monica said suddenly when she turned back to the window. Making sure she had everyone's attention, she said, "We better wrap this up 'cause five-O's on the way."

**TBC...**

A/N: If you guys like to see some improvement on this story, pretty please (with a cherry on top) leave a review. I would love to hear what you guys think (good or bad) and I'll be truly grateful! I know chapter 1 was boring and maybe this one too...but there will be hurt Dean later on... And once again, big thanks to darksupernatural and Muffy Morrigan! You guys rock! :D


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Thank you to all who have read and left lovely reviews! You guys rock! And thanks again to the amazing darksupernatural! You go girl! Enjoy! :D

**Chapter 3**

The promised storm that was itching to ruin the day for any normal boy and girl began in the wee hours of the morning.

Sam smiled as he breathed in the smell of rain that was making its way through the small ventilation that their motel room had while typing and clicking away furiously at his laptop, looking for anything about the sisters they met last night.

The storm itself, as threatening as it looked with its ominous clouds, wasn't much of a storm. True, Sam thought it was going to do the whole lightening show effect with heavy rain pelting down on unexpected victims, but he was grateful nonetheless that at least it was sprinkling. There was no doubt in Sam's mind that it was going to get heavy later on in the day, making their work close to impossible when dealing with rainy weather.

A soft snore was the only indication that someone other than Sam was in the room, and as Sam looked over his brother, he smiled in the knowledge that at least his big brother was getting all the rest he needed. His stomach clenched painfully as he thought about his brother sleeping permanently, six feet under._ Oh God, don't think that way Sam! Dean's gonna be fine and we'll all celebrate and sip champagne. Or more likely whiskey for Dean. Maybe we should just go on a vacation instead…_

Shaking his head to clear his mind on Dean's impending doom, he checked his watch and was surprised that it was only 5:30 in the morning. _Huh, so I've been up for thirty minutes and already I feel like I've been up a lot longer than that._

Yawning and stretching, he decided to continue his research while his brother slept on. When the brothers got back to the motel, Dean crashed on his bed, completely exhausted while it took Sam more than an hour allow the all-familiar sound of his brother's peaceful breathing lure him into the clutches of sleep. He woke up four hours later feeling like he was on a high dosage of caffeine and on search mode, searching the mystery of the three huntresses.

Sometimes he wished he was more like his brother who always forgave anyone for any wrong doings, but the mystery of the sisters was too unsettling for him not to ignore his instincts. True, they haven't done anything wrong _yet_, but their father always ingrained it in them to make sure to better be safe than sorry as in to know your enemies. As far as he was concerned, they are not to be trusted until _he_ says so – until he's made sure they are not another Gordon, much less another Bela.

Ever since Sam was brought back from the land of the dead, courtesy of Dean and his bloody deal, Sam's perspectives and standards for people have dramatically changed. Used to, before he died, he could not so much as pull a trigger on a human being, even if that person had been tainted by something demonic such as a demon virus and was causing havoc. He would not hesitate to take out anything supernatural, but if it involved humans, then that's more Dean's department. But lately, ever since being brought back, anything that threatens Dean's or his life, and even the lives of _innocent_ people, he won't hesitate to destroy regardless if it was another human being.

He sighed as he looked over at his brother again. _If I find something wrong with the sisters, especially Monica, Dean's gonna be pissed._

As much as he liked seeing his brother happy especially if it's going to be with someone he would like to spend his whole life with, he would hate it if his brother got hurt by someone he thought he cared about.

From what he could tell so far, finding out the identity of the sisters was proving to be kinda like finding a needle in a haystack. He tried finding Elizabeth first considering that she told them her last name, but after hacking and searching in the FBI's database, he found at least twelve names with the last name Montgomery, and only four with the name Michael. No luck right there. Unfortunately for him but fortunately for the FBI, photos and any kind of Intel are harder to crack since you need to be an employee of the FBI. He was about to quit when he decided on a whim to input the girls' names into the search engine and found out exactly what he was looking for. _Bingo._

He checked his watch yet again and was once again surprised that it was almost approaching 6:30. _Where did the time go? Oh well, might as well get some breakfast, wake Dean, and then show him what I found._

* * *

Dean woke to the sound of the door opening as his hand automatically inches slowly towards the Bowie knife he always hides under his pillow, a true sign of a very well-trained hunter.

"Hey, rise and shine princess." Sam drawled as he stepped in from the rain.

"Hey, wasn't that my line?" Dean yawned as he sat up rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

"Yeah, but since I've never had the pleasure of calling you princess, I just thought I'd give it a try." Sam said as he put down their breakfast on the table followed by two steaming cups of black coffee.

"Well, then you should stick to being a princess 'cause I sure as hell don't look like one." Dean threw back as he got up and went straight to his cup of coffee, relinquishing in the effects the coffee will bring to his still sleep-befuddled mind.

"Then you should look at what you look like when you're sleeping. You so totally pull off the princess act, man. I was waiting to see if Prince Charming would show up." Sam returned.

"Dude, that dude would be so full of rock salt before he even made it over the threshold." Dean threw over his shoulder as he made a beeline to the bathroom.

Once Dean shut the door, he let his mind wandered to Monica and wondered what she was doing at this exact moment as he turned on the shower. As far as he knew, he could not be feeling anything for anyone this early in the game. And as far as he was concerned, he has been successfully able to treat dates and one night stands as games. He was always the one who takes and leaves, never once looking back, and he was always comfortable in the knowledge that the women he met agreed to his rules of the game. So why is this Monica any different? _Do you believe in love at first sight?_

Dean has heard that phrase so many times and not once had he thought about it until he first saw Monica. Dean shuddered at the thought that what he was feeling might be love – he just doesn't do that. Of course, he had thought about settling down, getting married and having kids one day, but he never thought it would ever happen to him. Stuff like that only happens in fairy tales, right?

The only woman who he had ever cared about enough to let her into his world was Cassie, but look at how that turned out. What would make him think Monica's any different? As far as he could tell, she's not interested on letting anyone in, and if he was being honest with himself, he's not either. Come to think of it, they both have walls around themselves and are afraid of letting people in for fear they'll leave them._ So what do I do? _He figured the best thing to do is let things run its course – who knows? _Maybe she's not that interested in me like I was in her last night. Maybe I'm just making a big deal out of nothing…_

After Dean was done with the bathroom, changed and pulled out his own greasy breakfast out of a grease-filled bag, he noticed his brother was so engrossed at whatever he was reading from his laptop, and as expected, all thoughts about what to do with Monica went out the door.

"So how long have you been up?" inquired Dean concernedly, knowing full well that meeting the sisters had upset his brother greatly and had no doubt his brother had spent well enough time looking them up.

"Not long." Sam said as he took a huge bite of his pancakes and washed it down with his coffee.

"Huh, 'cause I must say, you look like crap."

Sam ignored him for the time being as he wiped his mouth with his napkin and swung his laptop around so that Dean could see, and said enthusiastically, "You are not going to believe what I found out."

"Oh my God Sam, you found the lost city of Atlantis!" Dean said with mock enthusiasm.

"Bite me." Sam said, clicking the keys to show articles of the three mysterious girls.

After quickly scanning one article, Dean took his time before looking up at Sam's expectant face and said, "So?"

"Is that all you can say?" Sam asked, open-mouthed and shaking his head in utter disbelief.

After seeing Dean shrug his shoulder as he took a huge bite of his breakfast, Sam thought of trying a different approach.

As if by memory, Sam said, "The sister's full names are Elizabeth Amelia Destiny De La Cruz Montgomery, Monica Alexandra Decima De La Cruz, and Jennifer Brianna Nona De La Cruz from De La Cruz Estates. Oh and Elizabeth's husband is Michael Andrew Montgomery of the FBI, but that's neither here nor there."

When he didn't get the desired effect from his brother, he continued. "They're heiresses, Dean," Sam said as if it meant something.

"Wow Sam. Are they like Paris Hilton rich, Donald Trump rich, or Bela Talbot rich?" Dean asked, voice dripping with sarcasm, clearly not impressed with what Sam had found.

Truth be told, Dean was expecting more along the lines of finding Lilith and getting rid of her, not Sam nosing around in other people's business.

Sam looked at his brother, clearly not amused and said, "Doesn't any of this bother you? These heiresses are actually richer than Donald Trump himself. Why are they bothering themselves with hunting? Just for kicks?"

As Dean opened his mouth to no doubt defend them, Sam pushed, "It took me about an hour and a half finding them on the damn internet. It takes less than a second finding someone as exclusive as Donald and Paris, but them – it took a lot longer because they are elusive. The whole world doesn't know who they are much less what they looked like. Their father, Enrique Alfredo Marcus De La Cruz, was in the real estate business until the girls took over and their mother, Jasmine Maria Evita Gomez De La Cruz, was a dental hygienist – both have mysteriously disappeared."_ God Dean, can't you see I'm just trying to protect you?_

"Doesn't that mean they're not attention-seeking spoiled brats? Doesn't that mean that they don't care what their parents did or how much money their worth? Doesn't it mean that they found something that is meaningful instead of the billions they have?" Dean fired at once cutting Sam off of his tirade as he threw his unfinished breakfast in the trash.

"Why are you defending them?" Sam asked angrily as he too threw his unfinished breakfast in the trash.

"Why are you so eager in accusing them of…of nothing?! Are you that desperate or…or paranoid to want to blame anything on anybody just because _you_ can't find Lilith?! You can't 

find shit, and there'll be hell to pay if you so much as lay one finger on Monica!" Dean raged, shooting to his feet and ready to kick some ass, or more specifically, Sam's ass, but just stopping short, eyes wide in shock at the horror of what he had said._ Oh God, what the hell did I just say? I'm sorry Sammy, I didn't really mean it…_

Sam also shot to his feet regardless of how wounded he felt and was just about to tell Dean where he could stick his threat until a sudden knock on their door stopped the brother's fight.

Sam dropped down on his seat sulkily, swinging his laptop towards him and starting to research what he was supposed to research before the mystery of the huntresses took first priority, leaving Dean to answer the door.

"Hey," a voice greeted, smiling as Dean opened the door.

* * *

The promised storm that was itching to ruin the day for any normal boy and girl began in the wee hours of the morning.

For what seemed the ten millionth time, Monica sighed, looked at her watch – 4:30, and then turned her attention back to her research, hoping to show her where _Daddy_ will show up next.

Since 4 am, the only problem that kept her concentration away from the research laid out before her was that her mind kept wandering to where that blasted Dean Winchester was._ No doubt snoring up a storm probably with a knife under his pillow…_

He's cute, she'll admit that, but she's met tons of those guys in her line of profession throughout her life, and not once a spark of interest, or a spark of familiarization, or a spark of whatever the hell you want to call it had upset her greatly. As far as she was concerned, she as hell doesn't want to be in a relationship, and as far as she could tell, neither does he. Who knows? _Maybe he's the type that wants one night stands_. Just the thought of that made her want to kick his ass. _Maybe he's gonna treat me the same way he has treated every other girl_. If that's the case, then well, he better watch his back.

But whatever it is, she as hell won't call it _love_ – that's just not her. She doesn't do that. She's not at all like her sisters who ceaselessly hopes that one day Prince Charming will ride on a white horse and take them away. Stuff like that only happens in fairy tales, right? Sure she had hoped one day something like that will happen to her, but with her being realistic (or what some might call a pessimist) she just doesn't see that happening. _But what else could it be?_

Then her mind drifts over to Michael. She knew just like Elizabeth knew that Michael is without a doubt her Mr. Right. Monica just hopes her younger sister, Jennifer, will get someone like that, but that's only _if_ she can stop acting like her mother. God, she doesn't even know how their father could ever want someone like their mother.

Their father, a very wealthy real estate agent, was everything you could ever hope for: smart, funny, good-natured, always a forgiving and forgetting person, mild-tempered, always been able to see the good in people, and treats strangers like his own family. Their mother on the other hand…well, now she was a complete opposite. What can sum it all up very nicely is that she was a model – very little education, loved to spend money, nagged, bitched, manipulate, spoiled, everything and anything Monica despised about her, which come to think of it, wasn't a very difficult choice to make when the opportunity to kill her presented itself.

Still, it didn't make killing another human being easier, even if that person was a monster. Still, when the same opportunity to kill her father presents itself in the near future, would she have the guts to do it…again? Well if it endangered the lives of the people she cares about, then hell yeah. She just hopes she won't have any nightmares following that ordeal.

She sighed once again and looked at her watch – 5:30. After tossing and turning in bed for about four hours since she had gone to bed, she gave up and decided to do some research. And that was when her thoughts kept clashing on one another, making her second-guess her actions and not trust her instincts even though that was the first thing John Winchester taught them on the night of their very first hunt. She had thought about going back to bed and catch some shut-eye, but then she knew she would be plagued with the nightmares of killing her mother. Come to think of it as she looked at her watch one more time, she knows she'll be running on empty if she doesn't sleep.

After one more sigh, realizing she won't be finding anything any time soon, she left the motel to get breakfast.

Elizabeth woke thirty minutes later and looked at the empty bed in the middle of the room in between hers and Jennifer's bed and noted that Monica had no doubt had another sleepless night. Being the oldest, she always got the bed closest to the door while Monica, as the middle child, got the bed in the middle, and lastly Jennifer, as the youngest, would get the last bed. Elizabeth guessed it must have been encoded in older siblings to always watch out and protect the younger ones.

As soon as Elizabeth got up, woke Jennifer up, and both were ready to start a brand new day, Monica entered the room with their breakfast.

Once everyone was situated at the table ready to dig in, Elizabeth studied Monica for a moment before commenting, "You look like crap."

"Not with the magic power of makeup I don't." Monica replied back as she took as sip of her coffee.

"So have you found anything yet?" Jennifer asked gesturing toward the pile of research papers.

Shaking her head Monica replied, "It seems that the only way we can bag ourselves that damn werewolf is if he lands right in our laps."

"Well, then why don't we ask Sam what he's found?" Jennifer asked as she took a bite of her egg burrito.

Elizabeth laughed, looking at Jennifer as if she can hardly believe she's her sister and said, "After you insulted him? It would be a miracle if he would even talk to us."

"I did not insult him."

"Did too."

"Did not."

"Did too."

"Did not."

Monica watched their banter a little while longer before she said, "Jennifer, you did insult him. You mocked his capability of his research. How many times are we going to have discussion if you can't learn the first time that you can and have insulted people?"

"You know I didn't mean to –"

"I know you didn't, but in this line of work that we have now, you have to watch what you say. Don't you remember the time you insulted Gordon? And please let's not forget the time you almost insulted John Winchester. If you don't watch out, that mouth of yours will be the death of you." Monica warned.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah..." Jennifer said, rolling her eyes, not caring since they've had the same conversation many times before.

"Anyway, come to think of it, I think Jenny has a good point. Maybe we should get the Winchesters to help us. I mean, their father did." Elizabeth reasoned as she sipped her coffee, safely changing the subject away from deadly waters, already done with her food.

Monica scoffed, "They won't help us. Not unless they get something in return."

"What do you mean? I'm sure they will." Elizabeth said as she threw her trash in the bin.

"Oh yeah? And what makes you think they will? 'Cause last time I checked, you were ready to shoot first and ask questions later." Jennifer said as she followed suit, chunking her trash in the bin.

"They're hunters, right? They can't refuse a plea for help, especially if it's from damsels in distresses." Elizabeth said arrogantly.

Shaking her head in disbelief at her sister as she went on ahead and threw her trash away, Monica said, "Are you going to stoop that low and act like a damsel in distress? If you really want the guys' help, then you have to give them an offer they can't refuse."

"I got an idea! Why don't we serve you up to Dean? I'm sure he'll appreciate that." Jennifer laughed when Monica scowled at her, a blush accompanying the scowl.

"And while we're at it, why don't we serve you up to Sam? You think he'll appreciate that?" Monica threw back.

"Okay you two, that's enough," Elizabeth soothed as she raised her hands to calm her sisters down.

Once she was satisfied they weren't going to be throwing punches, she turned to Monica, "So exactly what do you have in mind? What do you think we can give the guys in return for helping us?"

Monica shrugged a shoulder, "I don't really know, except we can do what Bobby wanted us to do in the first place."

"Are you even sure it's these guys though?"

"It'll be a pretty big coincidence if it isn't, not to mention humiliating."

"Yeah, remember Bobby mentioning something about two brothers?" Jennifer said agreeing.

"Fine. So who's coming with me?" Elizabeth asked, looking at her sisters expectantly.

"Surely you don't need your sisters with you?" Monica asked.

"Unless you're afraid?" Jennifer taunted.

Elizabeth huffed and snapping her fingers at her sisters impatiently, she said, "C'mon you two. We have to catch them before they leave or we'll never find them."

"Hmm, I wonder which room they're staying at?" Jennifer mused, outside as she stared at three doors leading to rooms.

As if in answer to her question, the sisters distinctly heard loud voices coming from a room right in front of Elizabeth.

As Elizabeth was just about to knock, the sisters overheard their names coming from an agitated voice that the sisters had no trouble in identifying it as Sam's. Intrigued, they couldn't help but listen in the brother's conversation.

Elizabeth began knocking when they all felt they couldn't take overhearing the argument any longer.

Elizabeth readied herself and planted a warm smile which unfortunately didn't reach her eyes, and greeted a simple, "Hey," when Dean opened the door.

* * *

"Uh, are you planning on letting us in anytime soon, or you want us to stay out in the rain?" Elizabeth arched her brow at him.

Dean snapped out of his initial shock at finding the huntresses on their doorstep, and while furtively hoping that they didn't just overheard what he and his brother were arguing about, he stepped aside to let them in.

Judging by Sam's searching, glaring eyes, he could tell his brother is not happy about their abrupt visit.

"Huh," Elizabeth said looking at the extremely white room as she plopped down on Dean's vacant seat at the table.

"What?" Sam asked, no one mistaking the distrust in his voice.

"Nothing. It's just that we have a blue room with green sheets. Thing is, the guy didn't look color-blind to me." Elizabeth informed him pleasantly.

"So how'd you find us?"

"Uh, we are the only occupants in this whole godforsaken place, so it's not that hard to find you. Not to mention, our room is just a couple of doors down from yours. All we had to do was look outside and see your car."

Before Sam could find a remark for that, Dean quickly asked, sitting down on Sam's bed since Jennifer and Monica took up Dean's bed, "So what do you want? You need help with anything?"

"Actually we do," Monica said, relieved that at lease someone wasn't acting like a jerk.

"And what do we get in return?" Sam inquired.

Monica turned to Sam and said, "Look, I'm not even going to pretend that we didn't overhear your accusations, but if you allow us the opportunity and give us the chance, you can see for yourself that we're not all that bad. And besides, we're not Bela."

"Speaking of that witch, have you two seen her lately? We're just itching to kick her ass from here to Timbuktu." Jennifer said spitefully, looking from one brother to the next.

"Uh, well, then you're shit out of luck right there. She's already dead." Dean smiled grimly as he remembered their last so-called phone call, not expecting to hear her cry out desperately for help, and not wanting to lift a damn finger in assistance, knowing full well he had condemned her to her grisly fate. A fate he's pretty sure he can't escape himself in less than a week's time.

Jennifer looked disappointed in that, but said cheerily, "Well, can you at least tell me who did it so that I could send a thank you card?"

Sam laughed at that while he was thinking over what Monica had said, the argument between him and his brother completely forgotten as another knock sounded on the door._ Maybe I judged them too harshly._

Dean thought he should seriously get a job as a professional door opener as he once again opened the door. Relief flooded him when he saw who it was.

"Hey Bobby," Dean greeted, stepping aside to let the older experienced hunter in.

"Hey Dean," Bobby returned, and as he greeted Sam, he noticed three other sets of eyes looking at him.

Dean and Sam stood shocked as they watched Bobby greeted the sisters as they each in turn hugged the elder hunter. The brothers looked at each other and wondered why Bobby has never mentioned them before, nor their Dad for that matter.

If that was any indication of how friendly the girls were, then Sam wouldn't know what was. _If Bobby thinks they're okay, then I guess I did judge them harshly. I mean, Bobby has never led us down the wrong path before…_

"So, what's been happening?" Bobby asked, looking around the room.

An hour later after Bobby listened to Dean and Monica recounted the events leading up to Bobby's arrival, carefully avoiding Sam's earlier feelings for the sisters, he asked, "So what's the next step?"

"Well, we were thinking with their help, we can locate the werewolf much quicker and take it out." Elizabeth informed.

"And what are they going to get in return?" Bobby questioned.

"Now wait a minute Bobby, that's not necessary –" Dean started, shaking his head.

"Of course it is Dean. You need the help and these girls can help you." Bobby stated. He loves those boys of John Winchester's like they were his own children, and the thought of where Dean might end up in the coming week if he can't be saved…Bobby doesn't even want to think what he might do if he loses him. _Damn that kid and his dignity. He deserves to be helped more than anyone I know, and if he won't help himself, then I'm gonna make sure he gets it._

Elizabeth looked at Bobby as if asking for permission to speak, clearly not wanting to come between the two hunters unless it's okay to do so, sighed and said, "We'll do what you told us to do."

"Yeah, we'll help any way we can." Jennifer included.

"What do you mean?" Sam asked, sharing the same perplexed look on his brother's face and looking at Bobby intently.

Bobby took his time before answering as he studied his hands, suddenly not sure if he should bring it up._ I'm probably gonna get my ass chewed after this. But if this is for John's boys, then consequences be damned._

"Bobby?" Dean asked when Bobby didn't start explaining one of his never ending knowledge of the world.

When Bobby looked at Dean, his heart swelled at the memory of a mute five-year-old Dean constantly looking to Bobby for all the answers whenever his father was out on hunts. No, he couldn't let Dean succumbed to his fate, he couldn't let the hell hounds get their claws on him. He's too good to let something evil as Hell to want to claim him.

Bobby let out the breath he didn't know he was holding and said, "These girls has built themselves quite a reputation for being able to get people out of their deals. Y'know, those kinds of deals people make with crossroad demons." Bobby looked at Dean at that before continuing, "I don't know how they do it. Heck, I don't think anyone knows how they do it, but they have and they have not lost one miserable soul to Hell so far."

"So this is our proposition to you Dean," Monica said once Bobby finished telling them of their accomplishments, her dark brown eyes never straying from Dean's hazel eyes, "help us find the werewolf and we'll help you get out of your deal."

"You knew about that?" Dean asked, looking at her intently.

Monica glanced at Bobby's way before settling her eyes back at Dean's intense ones.

"Bobby might have mentioned it," she muttered without giving away too much information.

For the life of him, Bobby would have done everything in his power to stop the look of hurt betrayal forming in Dean's eyes as he turned on Bobby and seethed furiously, "What else have you told them? Huh? Have you told them why I did what I did?"

"Don't you dare raise your voice at me boy!" Bobby stormed, ready for a fight if need be.

Dean calmed considerably after hearing his brother plead, "Dean, think about it. Ruby lied to us when she said she could get you out of your deal. Bobby wouldn't have gone through this much trouble if he didn't think it could help you. And with only less than a week left, I'd say we're pretty much past the desperate measures stage."

Shaking his head, he looked at the girls and said resignedly, "No. We can help you, but I don't need yours. Unless this werewolf case isn't legitimate. For all I know you three probably set all this up just to get me and my brother cornered."

"Damn it Dean –!" Bobby roared.

"It's alright Bobby," Elizabeth cut it, calming Bobby down.

Once she was satisfied that Bobby wasn't going to kick Dean's ass even though she would have enjoyed it immensely considering what he almost accused them of, she turned to Dean with a look of complete understanding, "I know what you're going through. Well, I don't really _know_ since I've never been in your shoes before, but the countless people we've met have all felt the same way you're feeling now: hopelessness, scared, resignation. Now Bobby had approached us months ago with the hopes of saving you. I'll admit that we didn't want to, mainly because it wasn't our problem. You see, we're sick of saving these people who had sold their soul for useless crap, always wanting a little bit of fame and fortune. That, and well, because Bobby never mentioned exactly who had sold their soul. Believe me, if we had known one of John's boys was in trouble, we would not hesitate to lend a helping hand."

"Yeah, we owe him that much," Jennifer said, taking over, "and as for the case, it is a legitimate case. As we've said before, we've been tracking this thing for quite some time, it just so happens that you guys showed up."

"But if you don't want our help, then that's fine," Monica stepped in, "we won't force you to do anything. But if you do decide to take us up on our offer sometime later on, then the door will always be open. And if you want to help us, then by all means." Monica put up her hands in acceptance.

A long silence followed the girls' speech, each not looking at one another and each lost in their own thoughts.

When the silence got too deafening for Sam's liking, he spoke up, "Dean, I think you should seriously consider their offer," Sam put up his hand to silence his brother when he saw Dean was about to argue back, "but when you come to your conclusion, can we at least concentrate on the case here before the next full moon tomorrow?"

Everybody physically relaxed when Sam decided to concentrate on the case, everyone looking to Bobby to lead.

"I guess it's time to visit all the crime scenes where it attacked," Bobby suggested.

**TBC...**

A/N 2: Just to let anyone know, I am planning on updating the story every Thursday. The story is complete, it's just that I've decided to it this way because well...it's Supernatural! I'm just updating it today instead of tomorrow because it's going to be crazy tomorrow (ah, how I long for a vacation...) lol. And please, if you like it or still want to see some improvement, pretty please send a review! And don't forget tomorrow's episode! ;)


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: I'm going to keep giving my thanks to the incredibly gifted darksupernatural for her awesome support! And thanks to everyone who left a review! You all are truly awesome! :D

**Chapter 4**

"Here we are at the home of Elliot and Mary Jacobs, one of the very first victims to be slaughtered by that damn creature." Dean said, looking at Monica as he parked the Impala across the street from the lovely one story home.

The rain, thankfully, had not gotten into full swing yet since it started early in the morning, providing them with minimum coverage, but that still did not mean they couldn't be seen by passersby's.

"You think Bobby was right in there being clues left behind by that thing?" Monica asked getting out of the car, pulling her black leather jacket closer around her and zipping it up.

After Bobby informed the group that there might be possible clues left at all twelve crime scenes, he split them up in pairs: Sam with Jennifer, Dean with Monica, and Bobby with Elizabeth, and gave each four locations to check out. They needed to check out the locations to find a pattern that would hopefully point to where the next werewolf attack might be.

"He's never been wrong before, and it would be a shame if he was now." Dean said as he checked out the exterior of the place, looking for any points of entrance before settling for the front door, knowing full well they have to be quick and discreet upon entering a crime scene.

Monica kept a lookout while Dean fumbled with the lock. Once satisfied they weren't being spied on by the neighbors, they went in and flicked on their flashlights. They didn't have to worry if there were any other occupants since Elliot and Mary were the only ones living there at that time since their kids already moved out and started families of their own.

Not sure on what to look for, Dean and Monica quickly searched every nook and cranny in every room. It wasn't until Dean found what appeared to be fur from an animal in the basement of the home, that they hit the jackpot.

"Monica!" Dean called, holding the small clump of fur in between his fingers and shining the light on them as eyes search everywhere for more.

"Did you find anything?" Monica asked as she quickly went down the stairs and stepped in front of Dean looking at the piece of fur.

"Yeah, I think this might've come from Fido. If we're lucky, we can find out where he's marked his territory and give him a treat," Dean said as he deposited the fur in her hands and looked around for more, suddenly nervous that now they're alone in a basement no less, but managed to cover his nervousness with his sarcastic charming self.

"Yeah, but that'll be after he gets his tick and flea bath," Monica said, searching for more clues.

Not to be outdone by her, Dean said, smirking at her, "And let's not forget about getting him neutered and groomed."

Smirking back at him, she said, "Sorry Dean, I can see how much you're looking forward to having a new friend but we really can't keep him. Besides, imagine what he'll do to the upholstery in your baby."

Dean shuddered at the thought about his pride and joy being man's best friend's giant chew toy, but just as he was about fish out a remark for that, both looked up at the ceiling when they heard something sounding like someone sharply closing the front door.

As both flanked the entrance leading into the kitchen from the basement with guns drawn, Dean contemplated the form of action that would best suit both of them in a situation like this with the least minimum damage. Monica on the other hand, was itching to barge in unexpectedly and surprise the unknown intruder.

'Don't you dare,' Dean mouthed to her, glaring at her, knowing what she was about to do and receiving a glare of her own. 'Cover me,' he mouthed to her again.

Shaking her head at him in stubborn disagreement, half of her knowing it was going to be a bad idea and the other half silently asking him for forgiveness in what she was about to do, she stepped in front of him, gun pointed at the ready and forced him to cover her while she led them into the kitchen.

The fight they were expecting did not happen, leaving them a little bit relieved, a little bit disappointed, and a little bit wary. Dean moved stealthily to a window leading out to the front of the house looking for any trespassers and finding none while Monica moved just as stealthily to a window leading out to the backyard hoping to find the intruder, but just like Dean, she didn't find their mystery intruder.

Monica then proceeded into the dining room once again forcing Dean to cover her. He almost walked right into her when she abruptly stopped just before entering the living room, senses on high alert but unsure of what her instincts were telling her. Sensing her tense discomfort of anything that might be lurking around, he was about to move in front of her to take the lead, but as if she was reading his mind, she stubbornly proceeded into the living room, again forcing him to cover her.

Just as soon as Dean stepped into the room right behind Monica, he saw a blur of movement out in the corner of his eye. Thanking whoever might be listening that he was the one covering her instead of the other way around, he put his arms around her midsection and threw both of them out of the way before the werewolf could have a chance to sink its teeth in what would have been its next victims. Twisting in midair so that he landed on his back with Monica landing on top of him, she whipped her gun around, aimed it at the werewolf, and fired two shots.

"Are you okay?" Dean asked when the danger passed.

Monica nodded as she asked, "Are you?"

"I am now that I have you right where I wanted you," Dean wriggled his brows suggestively and grinned at her like a little boy.

"Pig." Monica said disgustingly, rolling her eyes and poking him in the ribs with her elbow, making him grunt as she got up.

"Where'd it go?" Dean asked once he got up and started looking at where the werewolf was supposed to be.

"He ran," Monica said dejectedly gesturing towards the broken window.

Back in the Impala as Dean started the engine and eased his baby back on the road, he flipped out his cell and called the others informing them of what happened and to start scouring the surrounding area to find Cujo.

* * *

"Do you think we'll find anything here?" Jennifer asked, standing on her tip toes to look in a dumpster and wiggled her nose to rival Barbara Eden's character in _I Dream of Jeanie_ at the smell of rotten food.

"Well, we're not going to find anything in there." Sam said as he too looked in the dumpster, easily towering over her.

After searching every inch of that alleyway where the body of Matthew Jenkins was found when he took a shortcut on his way to his apartment, Jennifer was ready to call it quits. Maybe it was the sudden drop in temperature the storm brought with itself, or maybe it was the fact that she's getting her new pair of 6,000 dollar black suede boots wet, but whatever the reason, she was more than willing to call it a day.

But Sam being Sam (always being punctual and brilliant with everything he does) was not ready to call it quits until that sonofabitch was killed. Too many lives has been lost by that monster, and many more will follow down the same dark, twisted path if that beast continues to live and breathe. No, Sam won't allow it. He can't allow it. As long as _he _lives, he won't rest until that thing is hunted and killed. The more he thought about that thing, the more he realized that there's something more to this than what the girls were letting on.

"You said you have been tracking this thing, right?" Sam asked casually as he gave the alleyway once last onceover before heading back to the black Hummer.

"Yeah, why?" Jennifer asked, wondering where he was going with this as she almost had to jog to keep up with his long strides.

"So would this be your first werewolf hunt, then?" He asked as he got in, carefully avoiding her question.

"What's up with you? Why are you suddenly playing twenty questions?" Jennifer asked guardedly once she got behind the wheel and twisted herself to face Sam.

"Whoa, hey I'm just curious, that's all," Sam rushed, calming her down. The reaction coming from Jennifer had no doubt given Sam more than enough reason to believe that the girls were indeed hiding something. But in order to get the information that he needed, he had to make sure he asks as discreetly as possible without them becoming suspicious of him as possible. What they were hiding, he wasn't too sure, but whatever it was, he would rather find out sooner than later. _Maybe it might be nothing at all…_

Once Jennifer calmed down somewhat after she thought that Sam's questioning was based purely on curiosity and not meant to be harmful, she turned to look out the windshield at the pouring rain and said just as casually, "No. We've hunted other werewolves before this one."

Perplexed about that one, Sam decided to try a different course, hoping that one would shine some light into the mystery. Clearing his throat, he asked instead while fumbling with a hole in his jeans, "How did you meet my dad?"

Jennifer took her time to assess Sam one more time and finally decided that it was okay for her to answer before she replied exasperatedly, "About four years ago, we came across a werewolf and your dad swooped in and saved us."

Frowning at that as he silently fumed inside, Sam knew that she wasn't telling the whole truth, but seeing the determination in her eyes as she kept him away from knowing the truth by sugar coating what really happened, then there was nothing more that he can do…or was there?

Trying yet another tactic, he said, "You mentioned before that this isn't your first werewolf, which in turn is safe to assume that all the other cases were successfully solved, but I feel, that with this case, it's more like the wolf that got away –"

"Where are you going with this, huh?" She asked irritatingly as she turned to look at him, "First you didn't trust us, and then just when you started thinking we were alright, here you go playing twenty questions. So what are you trying to do? Huh? What do you want?"

Sam was saved from answering her when his cell phone rang.

"Dean? What's wrong?" Sam asked, concern and worry sketched all over his face.

When he saw the unabashed fear in Jennifer's eyes, already thinking the worst when she read what was on his face, he shook his head to let her know that whatever it is wasn't serious.

"You alright, right? And Monica?" He asked to calm Jennifer's fears. Nodding his head to her to let her know that everybody was alright, his attention was drawn to something Dean said that made Sam look at his watch and reply, "Yeah, we'll be there in twenty."

* * *

"So, you mind telling me what's going on between you three and the Winchesters?" Bobby queried as he drove his truck to their next location: back to the home of the Michaels residence.

"What do you mean Bobby?" Elizabeth asked turning her attention away from the scenery outside to look at Bobby.

After finding completely nothing at their last two locations, the hope for finding clues at the Michaels' place is growing thin. They've searched everywhere for anything that could point them in the right direction to where that damn thing might attack next, but it is proving to be a difficult task looking for the elusive werewolf.

Elizabeth knew it knew it was being followed, and she knew it does not want to be found. She knew because she's spent the past year tracking that damn thing. Every wrong turn, every dead end…Elizabeth wondered why here why now? That werewolf had never wanted to be found, but if the evidence that they had found that had led them to Portland was any indication that the damn thing was slipping up, then Elizabeth wanted to know why. _Maybe it got tired of playing this whole cat and mouse game._

"Listen, I've known Dean and Sam since they were little kids. Heck, I helped in raising them myself. And I'll be dammed if I stand by and let either one of them get hurt, so whatever you three are cooking up, let me be the first in saying that you better lay off of them." Bobby said, waving his finger at her threateningly.

"Or what?" Elizabeth said tauntingly, clearly ignoring Bobby's threats, knowing full well that he just means well. It was obvious from the start how much he cares for the boys.

"Or there'll be hell to pay. And demons aren't gonna be the only ones you'll be afraid of." Bobby said using his best voice and look that would usually send a spark of fear in anyone.

Unfortunately, it didn't work on Elizabeth.

"Are you done?" Elizabeth sighed almost as if she was bored, rolling her eyes and turning her attention back to the scenery.

To anyone who has never met Bobby before, his threats would surely make someone wet their pants in pure terror – once they got past the initial shock, that is. But for those who knew Bobby quite well, if there was something he needed to get off his chest, then the best option would be was to just let him have his say, fume about it a little bit, and he'll be back to his old self.

"Yeah, I'm done." Bobby said after a while as he turned into the street leading up to the Michaels home, "It's just that Dean deserves more, and I'm not blind. I can see that he's infatuated in Monica as she is in him, but I just don't want to see him get hurt."

"I know Bobby. But have you ever taken into consideration about how she's going to feel once Dean becomes puppy chow?"

"She'll get over it," Bobby huffed, shrugging a shoulder as he came to a stop outside the house, "but Dean won't. I just…I just don't want anything bad to happen to him."

Elizabeth carefully looked Bobby over, amazed that his hard exterior was about to crack as she noticed him struggle to swallow the lump that had just suddenly formed in his throat. Hearing the invincible, indestructible Bobby Singer's voice crack was almost unbearable to hear let alone experience to see up close.

"Bobby…you heard what Dean said. He said he didn't want to be saved," Elizabeth started, but seeing Bobby's hopeful face fell, she changed tactics, "but I promise that we'll do what we can. Besides, if he won't listen to either one of us, then he'll no doubt listen to Monica."

"So what's going on with those two?"

"Easy. They're just too stubborn and too stupid to know what's right in front of them."

"Aren't you afraid that something might…y'know, happen?"

"Yeah, but I have to trust her to know what's right. As for him, I'll kick his ass if he even thinks about it. And I'll kill him if he so much as impregnates her."

Bobby laughed, "Yep that sounds like Dean, always messing around. But I don't think she'll mind it though."

Elizabeth looked like she was going to hit him at that, but instead settled for, "Better watch it Singer, or you won't like what I'll do to you."

"So what are you really wanting from the Winchesters?" Bobby asked, changing the subject.

"Their help. Once they help us locate the werewolf, then they can go on their merry way and we'll take care of the rest. I can go back to my husband and Monica and Jennifer can do whatever the hell they were doing before…y'know, all of this happened."

"Is that so?"

"Yeah, I wouldn't have it any other way."

"That's what you said the last time. Besides, have they found out who you really are?"

"Unfortunately. Thanks to Sam's nosiness, he found out we have all the money we could possible want, but he's been wondering why we're in this hunting business instead of spending money carelessly."

"Don't blame the kid. He's as overbearing and overprotective of his brother as Dean is with him. Not to mention he does have the right to be suspicious of you three."

Before Elizabeth could find a retort for that, Bobby's cell rang. The next thing they knew, they were driving away from the Michaels' home and heading towards the freeway to meet up with Dean and Monica.

* * *

After having driven almost everywhere looking for the werewolf with no luck, Dean felt restless as he fidgeted around with the radio looking for anything to calm his nerves.

"Would you mind telling me how you met Henricksen?" Dean asked casually as he glanced at Monica, finally giving up finding anything that closely resembles Metallica.

Deciding that it was a safe subject to discuss, Monica replied, "We were on our way to Texas to take care of a poltergeist problem when the police scanner picked up a report of an explosion in the Colorado area. Naturally, we just had to take a look. Upon investigating we found three survivors: FBI Agent Victor Henricksen, Deputy Phil Amici, and Nancy Fitzgerald."

"How the hell did they survive? Last I heard, they were found dead." Dean said incredulously.

"And they want to stay that way," Monica said.

After noticing Dean's raised eyebrows, she continued, "According to Henricksen, he said that while the demon, Lilith, was gathering enough power to demolish the building, he noticed an underground escape tunnel that would lead right outside the facility. So he gathered up Amici and Fitzgerald and forced them and himself into the tunnel. Apparently no one knew about it or they would have been found. We found them a day later – dehydrated, badly hurt, but alive. We ended up taking them somewhere where they'll be safe from Lilith."

"That's it?" Dean asked, expecting more.

"Wait, stop here," Monica said suddenly, ignoring Dean's question when they came across the Tryon Creek State Park.

"What? Why here? It's a long ways from where we found him." Dean said looking at her uncertainly as he came to a stop.

"Just trust me on this, okay?" Monica asked as she took out her cell to no doubt call in the reinforcements.

The same old instincts he had learned long ago not to ignore and that had saved his ass in more times than he could count, was now telling him that something was off. He didn't know what, but he could sense that something was going to go terribly wrong. And suddenly he didn't want Monica anywhere near the park.

But even when he thought it, he felt his head nodding and his body moving to get out of the vehicle. Next thing he knew, he was at the trunk loading himself with extra clips to his .45 after making sure they were loaded with silver bullets.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Monica demanded when she reached Dean, cell phone lay forgotten in her hand, not having a chance to call anybody.

"Going after the werewolf, of course," Dean said as if that was most sane answer in the world, "and _you_ are going to stay in the car."

Monica stood open-mouthed at the audacity, watching his retreating back as he went into the woods. Livid, she decided to follow.

"Who the hell do you think you are?" Monica demanded, barely containing her temper, putting her phone away after she texted her sisters of their whereabouts as she followed him further into the park.

Shaking his head, he said as he stopped, "Didn't I just tell you to stay put?"

"The hell you did! What the hell are you thinking in wanting to go after that thing without any backup?" Monica argued, scowling at him as she stood in front of him, arms crossed.

"Look, if Fido's here, then I can't take any chances in safely assuming it'll wait for the cavalry to get here. If that thing's smart, it'll leave way before Sam or Bobby shows up," Dean countered, scowling right back at her, using his full height of 6'1 to tower over her offensively.

They continued glaring at each other for a moment longer, dark brown meeting hazel, threateningly, each vainly hoping to dissuade the other when all of a sudden Dean produced his keys and tossed them to Monica.

"If you want to make yourself useful, you can wait for them at the car, 'cause I sure as hell won't take you with me," Dean said viciously as he walked off. He knew he was pissing her off, but he knew he was doing it for her own good. He was at least hoping she'll get pissed off enough to walk back to the car and probably take off without him, leaving his sorry ass alone in the middle of nowhere – or at least what seems like the middle of nowhere._ Why can't she see that I'm just trying to protect her?_

Unfortunately, that wasn't the case.

"Winchester!" Monica yelled from behind.

As Dean turned just in time to catch his keys, Monica said in a tone that meant that it was not open for discussion, "I'm coming with you."

"The hell you are," Dean barked as he gripped her arm, "you are going back to the car even if I have to throw you over my shoulder."

"You wouldn't dare," Monica seethed, eyes throwing daggers at him.

"Oh sweetheart, I would and I'll enjoy it," Dean smirked as he made to grab her to do exactly what he said he was going to do just to prove a point, when they heard a snapping of a twig followed by the sound of rustling coming from the many various bushes, realizing a little too late that they had strayed too far from the trail.

As both whipped out their guns, eyes ceaselessly darting everywhere for Cujo, Dean whispered, "I want you to run back to the car."

After seeing her shake her head no, the determination in her eyes clearly saying that she won't leave him behind, he tried again, "I'll cover you –" He was cut off short as he spotted the werewolf to his left. _What the hell?_

He knew the next full moon was tomorrow and he knew that werewolves were transformed back into their human forms until the next full moon, not to mention that the sun was still out, and by judging the position of the sun, it won't be dark until three hours later. But then why is this a fully transformed werewolf? The creature that looked more wolf than human in a grotesque way is a little creepy, even for Winchester standards.

Dean didn't even think about it when he aimed his gun at its heart and pulled the trigger to end the creature's reign of terror.

Dean barely registered Monica's frustrated yell of "NO!" as he felt his aim being knocked off of course, the bullet piercing a tree an inch away from the werewolf. What he did notice was that the werewolf was nowhere in sight, obviously gone off to hide somewhere. _I missed? What the hell?_

"What the hell?!" Dean shouted, turning and raged at Monica who wisely took a step backwards. Apparently she had never seen Dean fully ticked off before, until now.

"What the hell was that?" He demanded again when she didn't speak up.

Monica opened her mouth to say something, but thought better of it as she turned right around and stalked off further into the woods.

She knew that what she did was wrong – she was more than willing to put down that beast herself – but she didn't want it to be killed – yet. There were questions she needed answering and that thing held all the answers she needed._ But what's more important? The lives of innocents or your damn quest for righteousness? _She also knew that by buying that thing more time, she condemned the lives of innocents. _And maybe Dean's trust too_, she thought bitterly.

"Here," Dean said, startling her as he removed his jacket to put around her shoulders, unfazed that he made her jump, "put this on."

She had no idea he was even anywhere near her. She was so lost in her thoughts that she didn't even know that it had grown darker since their second encounter with that thing much less her shivering due to the drop in temperature.

"What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be back with your baby?" Monica said wearily as she sat on a large tree stump.

"Uh, in case you haven't noticed, I've been following you. So you mind telling me what went on back there?" Dean asked softly, sitting down next to her, not exactly used to this kind of gentle, sympathized approach since it was always Sam's department, but decided that he'll give it a try.

He was pretty much speechless when she walked off on him; usually he would be the one doing all the leaving – shit, he was a master of it, but he never expected _her _to do it. He was expecting her to fight back, but to submit to this kind of weakness? Well, that was new to him. Add that to the thought that the werewolf was somewhere out there no doubt stalking them, he, Dean Winchester, was following her (to his dismay) like a lovesick protector (which he still had not worked out how that happened), and how he managed to let down his guard whenever he was with her…well, he's sure as hell don't want to go there. He was still pissed at her at what she did, but he figured the lecture would have to come later.

"You wouldn't understand," Monica sighed tiredly, wrapping Dean's jacket closer around her to fend off the chill.

"Maybe, but if you don't mind, I think I'd like to get out of here, unless you can assure me I won't end up in jail for setting the forest on fire." Dean said getting up and dragging her with him.

"It's a park." She automatically corrected, easily falling into step with him and thanking whoever is listening that there was at least a little bit of sunshine left as the sun was setting.

"Park, forest, whatever. They all have one thing in common and it's not their vegetation. You know what that is?"

After seeing her quizzical look, he continued, "Camping. In the outdoors. I hate camping," he mumbled.

"Oh come on, camping's not all that bad." Monica laughed.

"Are you kidding me? Have you ever been camping? Especially with a wendigo running around loose?"

She was about to reply when they heard a noise behind them. As Monica turned around, she barely had time to identify the source of the sound before she was thrown into a tree.

**TBC...**

A/N 2: Pretty please leave a review!! :D


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: Here's another chapter up! I'll keep giving my thanks to darksupernatural for her support! And thanks to those who've read and review! :D

**Chapter 5**

Dean whipped out his gun and aimed it at the werewolf, half of him wanting to check on Monica who laid a couple of yards away, unconscious by the look of it, and the other half knowing that he couldn't waste any time killing the thing before it took another victim. With that thought coursing through his mind, he fired.

The werewolf moved swiftly enough to dodge the first bullet, but just when Dean was about to pull the trigger to let out another shot, he felt a stinging sensation on his right hand as a claw collided with it, and tossed his gun into the air and out of sight.

The next thing he knew as he whipped out a silver dagger was a burning sensation setting his entire torso on fire as the creature raked another claw across his abdomen. He never thought to let out a scream as he numbly felt his blood life draining ever slowly, yet very quickly. Still he tried to keep on fighting, never once relinquishing the blade that could mean his survival.

Before he could drop to the ground due to the excessive blood loss, the werewolf snatched him at the throat, squeezing until he dropped his only weapon, his lifeline, and cut off his air supply as it prepared to sink its teeth in his flesh, dooming him to become the one thing he had hunted all his life.

As he grew weaker and weaker trying to fight it off, he closed his eyes, accepting that maybe this was what fate had intended for him. But he never expected to be dropped before the thing ever had a chance to bite him, tempting to fall into oblivion.

"No, no, no, no, no…." A voice lamented, "Dean?"

_Sammy?_

"Dean? C'mon, I need you to open your eyes for me," the voice pleaded, tapping his cheek.

_Wait a minute…last time I checked, Sammy didn't sound like a girl. Heh, serves him right…_

The increased pressure on his abdomen made him gasp and open his eyes to mere slits, focusing them on his savior.

Monica sighed in relief at seeing his opened, albeit glassy eyes. Making sure she kept the pressure on Dean's wounds with her jacket since she had no intention of using _his_ jacket, and while hoping to slow down the blood flow, she maneuvered him carefully so that his head would lie on her lap. Swallowing in the fear that was about to erupt at the sight that met her eyes when she regained consciousness, she moved one hand away from his wounds and fumbled with her cell to call for help.

She cursed her knowledge on how to care for wounds because it unfortunately does not extend to severe cases such as Dean's. She can handle wounds that could need stitching, but noticing that some of his insides were showing, not to mention that there was a high probability that there were more internal bleeding, then she's shit out of luck. Taking him to a hospital would more than likely be better for him, especially since the nighttime and the onslaught of rain was making the situation worse.

"N-no…d-don't," Dean gritted through his teeth, trying to breathe through the pain, his breaths coming out in short, shallow gasps as he weakly reached up for her hand to stop her calling for an ambulance, "n-no…h-hospital."_ Damn, it hurts so much just to talk…_

"What? Why?" Monica asked nonplused, clicking off her cell as she looked at him and noticed the thin layer of sweat coating his face and his shivering. _He's going into shock_, she thought as she placed her hand on his forehead and felt the cold and clammy feel of his skin. She then felt for his pulse. _Slow and thready, shit._

She grew more fearful when he started struggling for air, his lips turning a light shade of blue as his tired lungs starved for much needed oxygen. _Oh crap, oh crap, oh crap…_

"J-j-just…n-no…h-h-hospital," Dean gasped out, closing his eyes and so desperately wanting the darkness to claim him.

Dean knew his time was almost up as he felt his heart beat slower and slower while he tried in vain to pull in more oxygen to his almost uncooperative lungs. The dark spots edging in the corner of his vision and the coldness seeping into his body also made its presence known as if taunting him of his inevitable demise. _Damn and I thought it was going to be the hellhounds that would be the ones to take me out…_

"Don't you _dare_," Monica threatened, shaking him a little too roughly and using the anger to override the panic and fear that was so close to consuming her, "I'll kick your ass if you so much as _think_ about it."

Apparently the threat didn't work when she felt his cold body go limp in her arms.

"Shit," she cursed when she didn't feel his breath on her cheek. She said a couple more expletives when she placed her fingers on his throat and didn't find a pulse.

One look at his pallor face, blue-tinged lips, and his half-open glassy, unseeing eyes, and Monica knew he was dead. _Oh my God, he's dead…he's dead…no, no, no, no, no…_

Shaking her head as she pulled herself together, refusing to believe that he's gone, she moved out from under him to begin CPR.

"I'll tear you into a new one if you don't start fighting," she hissed threateningly in his ear as she tipped his head back and pinched his nose, preparing to administer mouth-to-mouth.

After the second lungful of air she forced into his unresponsive lungs, she felt a surge of electricity coursed through her when she placed her hands on his chest to start the compressions.

The next thing she knew, Dean gasped and coughed, and started gulping lungful after lungful of precious air. All Monica could do was stare, dumbfounded at what happen, as she quickly turned him on his side so he can breathe a little bit easier.

_What the hell?_

Monica was with out-a-doubt sure he was dead way before she started the chest compressions, but how the hell did he suddenly and literally came back to life?

She didn't ponder that further when she heard noises behind her.

"Dean? Monica?"

"Over here!" Monica called once she recognized Sam's voice, turning Dean on his back and assessed his vitals, still not believing what had happened.

"What the – Dean!" Sam panicked, rushing when he saw his brother on the ground covered with so much blood and wondering how his brother could still be alive.

He looked like he wanted to shove Monica out of the way to care for Dean himself, but one look of her threatening glare made him stop in his tracks, and instead decided to settle himself on Dean's other side.

Sam won the battle against his stomach when it fought hard to bring up everything he ate that day after his first assessment of Dean's injuries. It amazed him how his brother managed to hold on this long when his brother's internal organs were exposed.

"Dean? Stay with me man. C'mon, open your eyes," Sam beseeched, tapping his brother's cheek.

Dean, being Dean who could never resist his baby brother's demands especially when Sam uses his puppy dog eyes, forced his eyes to open against their will and focus them on Sam.

"You okay?" Dean whispered concernedly, his eyes searching for any kind of wound Sam might be hiding.

"Yeah fine, Dean," Sam gave him a tiny smile, wondering when his brother would ever stop being his protector.

"How do you feel?" He asked, knowing it was a stupid question considering his brother's condition, but wanting to engage his brother in a conversation to ensure he stays awake.

"I'm fine, Sam," Dean forced out, grimacing slightly of the pain.

"Jesus boy, what the hell have you gotten yourself into now?" Bobby asked worriedly, trying to not let the fear creep into his voice.

"Did you do this?" Bobby asked Monica teasingly.

"Ha, ha, freakin' ha, very funny," Dean breathed out, suddenly growing very tired. His eyes flew open as he grunted in pain when Monica pinched him, not even noticing he had closed his eyes.

"Oh my God," Jennifer exclaimed, hand flying to her mouth in horror once she saw the extent of Dean's situation, "he needs a hospital!"

Reaching for her cell to call 911, she almost dropped it in surprise when Dean, Sam, Bobby, and Monica yelled, "NO!"

"What? Why?" Jennifer looked at each of them incredulously, unconsciously putting her phone away.

"Too many questions," Sam said simply as he took off his jacket to place over the wound and Monica's blood-soaked jacket.

"Don't you remember? Both of you aren't under the FBI's radar anymore, so there's absolutely no reason for either one of you to be worried," Jennifer refuted, taking out her cell phone again to call for help.

"Well, we don't want to risk it," Sam implored. Using his very effective puppy dog eyes, he pleaded, "Please, just help us take him back to the motel and Bobby and me can patch him up."

"You do know he's going to die if he doesn't get to a hospital soon?" Elizabeth inquired.

"He won't," Monica said with such conviction that Elizabeth couldn't help but look at her questioningly.

"Fine," Elizabeth conceded, "but we are not taking him back to the motel."

"Why?" Sam questioned suspiciously.

"Well," Elizabeth responded, "for one, it's quite unsanitary. And two, I know a better place where we could take him, a small cabin actually, but it'll be a long drive and I can't promise you that he'll make it."

"He will," Monica said with the same unyielding conviction that was in her voice earlier, and again Elizabeth had to stop and look at her sister questioningly.

"Fine," Elizabeth conceded again, "let's load him up, and while we're at it, we just might as well take him too," she said, gesturing towards the still form of the werewolf.

"Is it dead?" Bobby asked, finally noticing the werewolf.

"Nope, just stunned," Elizabeth said as she used the tip of her boot to lightly kick the werewolf's leg to prove her point.

"Aren't you going to kill it and then salt and burn him?" Sam asked as he prepared to gather Dean in his arms and start the long hike to the waiting vehicles, not feeling an ounce of sympathy towards the thing that almost killed his brother.

"Well I can't very well do it here in the park," Elizabeth pointed out, "so we'll just have to take it with us. Besides, the place I told you about will provide plenty of coverage for what we'll be able to do."

* * *

"Whose place is this?" Sam asked curiously as he carefully deposited his unconscious brother on a relatively huge bed, hoping not to aggravate his injuries further.

"Mine," Elizabeth said simply as she prepared the surgical equipment while Jennifer prepared the IV's, the blood transfusion, and anything that might help.

Sam blinked at that – _should've known… _– but quickly recovered by eagerly asking, "So what do you want me to do?"

"Leave," she said simply as she helped Jennifer prepped him for surgery.

"Are you sure you know what you're doing?" Sam asked, clearly refusing to leave his brother's side.

"Sam, your brother is in good hands," Elizabeth said, fed up of Sam always second-guessing them, "and besides, we're not one of those air-head heiresses. We do have actual college degrees."

"Now leave," she ordered in a tone that left no room for arguments.

Dejectedly, Sam left his brother, again, in the hands of complete strangers. The difference is that even though he distrusts a lot of doctors, at least he would know he left his brother in the care of people who _know_ what they were doing in a somewhat relatively safe place such as a hospital. In the case with the sisters, well, he can only hope _they_ would know what they're doing.

Looking around the place as he searched for the kitchen, he couldn't help but sigh appreciatively at the accommodations. _Yep, that's what you get when you have countless amounts of money_, he thought as he looked at each beautiful priceless antique after another. Each luxurious room with their own quality of uniqueness is more like stepping in a museum – a very priceless museum, that is. As he sat down gratefully on a plush white sofa in a rather large den and looked around, he realized that the mansion-size cabin was purposely made to look luxurious and priceless. What he really liked about the place was that whoever decorated it did not make it too feminine and yet too masculine. It was just…perfect. If there was ever a word he could find in the dictionary to describe this place, it was: perfect. _And safe_, he thought afterward.

Looking at his watch and noticing that thirty minutes had passed since he left his brother's side, he decided that a trip to the kitchen to grab some caffeine would at least alleviate some of his nerves. The long ride from Portland to the outskirts of California had been really nerve wrecking, if not unpleasant due to the downpour. The thought of Dean dying any minute in his arms kept replaying in his mind almost as if messing up with his sense of reality, but thankfully, and thanking Monica's expertise of driving in wet weather (in the dark, no less) and making the trip in less than four hours, Dean hasn't died. _Yet_, Sam thought. Yep, he needs his caffeine.

"Hey boy, I was wonderin' if you had gotten lost somewhere in the depths of this place," Bobby teased with a warm encouraging smile from his place at the breakfast table as he gave Sam a cup of black coffee, knowing his nerves was really taking a toll what with worrying about his brother and all that.

Sam didn't say anything as he settled himself across from his friend, but nodded his thanks for the coffee, his eyes roaming around the large kitchen/breakfast room and furtively glancing in the general direction of where his brother lay, no doubt in agonizing pain. Come to think of it, Sam was pretty sure he hadn't yet heard his brother screaming.

Bobby, noticing Sam's worried glances, put his own cup down and said gently, "Sam, Dean's gonna be okay. He really is in good hands. Trust me, he'll be demanding a cheese burger and acting like his old self in no time."

"But how do you _know _that?" Sam asked imploringly.

"Because I know these girls."

When Bobby could tell Sam wasn't satisfied with his answer, he continued with a sigh, "Elizabeth was a doctor. A surgeon, to be exact, and Jennifer was an RN."

"Was?"

"Well yeah. That was before they became hunters."

"And Monica?"

"Well then, what she was, is actually even more impressive to those who would refuse to believe it at first," Bobby said with a mysterious smile.

"Which was what, exactly?" Sam asked, his patience growing extremely thin.

"A spy," Bobby said simply, enjoying Sam's inner struggle between worrying for his brother and his desire to know more about the sisters, but what he enjoyed more was the inevitable skeptic look that flashed across the younger man's face.

Before Sam could remark upon that, Monica sauntered into the room from the basement, already changed from her blood-sodden clothes to something warmer and asked, "What did I hear about a spy?"

When both men didn't answer her, she decided to situate herself next to Bobby at the table, grabbing herself some coffee on the way, "Bobby, you didn't bore Sam with that story about me being a spy, now did you?"

"So you weren't one?" Sam asked suddenly fascinated.

"Why?"

"Just curious," Sam said, shrugging his shoulder nonchalantly.

"So I've noticed," Monica said, not giving more than that.

"So?"

"So what?"

"Well, have you really been one?"

Monica could see the unabashed interest in his puppy dog face that made him seem younger than he really is, and even she couldn't seem to resist them. Looking down at the contents in her drink, she muttered, "That was a long time ago."

Bobby watched their little exchange with amusement dancing in his eyes, part of him a little relieved that Sam found something that could keep his mind off of Dean's welfare even for a little while. Looking at his watch, Bobby was amazed that an hour and a half had passed with no word of how Dean was holding up. _Is that good or bad?_

"So who'd you work for?" Sam asked keenly, unaware of how uncomfortable the topic was for Monica.

Monica tried not to wince when she replied, "the CIA."

"Wow, that's impressive. So have you killed anyone? Blow shit up? Give car chases? All that exciting stuff spies do?"

Monica narrowed her eyes at him over the rim of her cup as she took as sip of her coffee, knowing exactly where he was going with it as well as noticing the barely contained sarcasm in his voice.

Thinking that the best course of action for Sam's little interrogation would be the straightforward, frankness truth, she responded, "Being a spy isn't all that glamorous and exciting as the movies portrayed them to be. As a matter of fact, it's the complete opposite."

Clearly uncomfortable she nonetheless cleared her throat and took a deep breath before continuing, "To answer your questions in order: yes, I have killed people – men, women, and children. I've also had my fair share of messing around with explosions and, as you've said, blowing shit up. But not once have I had to conduct a high speed car chase."

Through her discussion, Sam was trying to detect some kind of remorse or anything that could determine what kind of a human being that could coldly terminate another human being, and was amazed to find not one trace of any kind of compassion. _But she did seem uncomfortable talking about it. Maybe it's because she's not comfortable talking about it openly? Maybe she's not comfortable letting people know what she's capable of? Stop being such a hypocrite Winchester. Don't you remember what you've done to Jake and that Casey chick? Yeah, but I had very good reasons for it…_

"So how did you meet Bobby?" Sam asked, easing off of the subject of what she did for a living, but questioning her relentlessly.

"You mind taking this one?" she asked Bobby as she excused herself at the table and took off, heading for the stairs, probably went to see how Dean was faring.

Shaking his head at Sam disapprovingly, all amusement that was there a moment ago now gone, Bobby said, "Now look at what you've done, you idgit."

"What?" Sam asked innocently.

"Well I guess it wouldn't hurt for you to know," Bobby began, scratching his head and letting out a long tiring sigh, "I met the girls after John sent them to me. You see, your daddy was working on a case where the girls lost a loved one to a monster. In that case, after they were exposed to the truth about what's out there, they saved Johnny as much as he saved them, so in return, after many persuasions that is, he sent them to me to teach them. In return, they made sure my business has prospered as well as provided me with some more high-tech medical supplies, but I think it's mostly because they didn't want me breaking into another hospital and stealing their provisions."

Stunned, all Sam could do was gape at Bobby, clearly surprise at the wide range of generosity and gratitude the sisters displayed towards Bobby. Now come to think of it, whenever he or Dean had gotten seriously injured after a hunt and had gone over to Bobby's place to get patched up, he never once questioned Bobby of how he managed to get his hands on every technologically advanced medical equipment known to mankind that only hospitals possessed, chunking it all to the belief that Bobby had stolen it from some other unfortunate hospital.

That fact that what the girls had done for Bobby for almost four years was indeed like a slap in the face. He couldn't ponder that further when Elizabeth approached them. He was a little disappointed when he could not read what was in her eyes or find any other sign that could indicate how the surgery went.

Unsure of how she should bring the news to them, but making sure her face was completely unreadable, Elizabeth began somberly, "Sam –"

"Is he alright? What's wrong? He can't be d – I mean he's not, is he?"

It took her a full minute to understand what Sam was implying. Hearing the quiver in his voice and looking into his tear-filled hazel green eyes, and then looking at the devastating look on Bobby's face, she snapped out of it, "Oh no Sam! He's alright. He's completely alright." She quickly reassured them.

"But?" Bobby asked, the fear evident in his voice.

Sitting down for this one, she took a moment before answering, "First just let me say that he is doing terrifically well. Better than I could ever imagine. Actually…he's healing at an alarming rate."

"What do you mean?" Both Sam and Bobby asked simultaneously.

"Well, for one, he should've been dead way before we ever got to him. With the extreme blood loss, a collapsed lung, his kidney, stomach, spleen and liver all nicked, not to mention a crushed larynx, I must say I'm pretty amazed he's still even breathing. He never even needed the blood transfusion nor the ventilator to help him breathe. His blood pressure never bottomed out and there weren't any complications that I was anticipating. Just as soon as we stitched him up, he was conscious and talking to us and everything else. The girls are cleaning up in there. Just as soon as they're done, you two can see him."

"Wait, so he's awake?" Sam asked hopefully.

"Not right now he isn't. I gave him some pain meds that'll knock him out so his body can get some much needed rest. But I must say, that must've been one hell of a miracle for Dean to be able to pull that one out of a hat," Elizabeth smiled as she returned to her patient.

"Uh Bobby, where's the werewolf?" Sam asked, suddenly remembering the creature that almost cost him his brother's life, eyes searching the room as if trying to spot where the wolf might be lurking from.

"Huh, amazing. I thought that was going to be the first question you were going to ask when you stepped in the kitchen, but I must say I'm impressed with you," Bobby chuckled, but at the bewildered look on Sam's face, he clarified gruffly, "Instead of you asking about that damned thing, all you asked about was the girls. You gotta get your head on straight boy; there are worst things out there than three measly women."

Sam opened and closed his mouth like a fish out of water, feeling for the first time in a long time like being sent to the principal's office to be scolded. True, he didn't ask the whereabouts of the werewolf at once after leaving Dean's side – Dean will always come first in his book – and okay, so what if the girls' identities might have a higher priority than that damn wolf? At least he's asking now, right?

"It's in the basement," Bobby snapped irritably, getting up and leaving Sam to sit alone in the kitchen.

As if on cue, Sam heard the unmistakable sounds of muffled angry howls coming from deep in the basement.

**TBC...**

A/N 2: Yep, there's the long-awaited hurt Dean I kept promising! ;) I hope this lives up to your expectations, Merisha! LOL. ;D Again, if y'all would like to see any improvement or if you see any mistakes, please let me know! I won't know what the problem is if nobody tells me :) I'd really appreciate it! So please read and review!! :D Pretty please with cherries on top cue Sam's puppy dog eyes - extra cherries! :)


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: Thanks to darksupernatural for being an awesome beta and a true friend. :D Enjoy!

**Chapter 6**

The first thing he noticed upon regaining consciousness after the girls cleaned up the room was lying on the most unbelievably, ridiculously comfortable bed he could ever imagine. Sinking deeper within the warm cocoon of the blankets, he was just about to drift back off to sleep until his hunter's instincts made him open his sleepy-filled eyes and focus them on the concerned puppy dog eyes of his younger brother.

"Hey," he greeted, his voice low, strained and rough with the sound of sleep, "you alright? It didn't get you?" As he tried swallowing, he remembered exactly why he gave up that task in the first place when he first woke up: his damaged larynx would not allow him that simple pleasure.

"Hey," Sam returned, smiling in relief at seeing his brother awake and talking, "how do you feel?"

"You didn't answer my question, Sam."

Shaking his head at his brother's sense of protectiveness, he said, "I'm alright Dean. It didn't get me," and knowing that Dean was going to be asking about Bobby and the girls, he quickly added, "and everybody's fine. Now how do you feel?"

"I feel fine, Sam," Dean said automatically, clearing his throat and ending up wincing. In truth, he did feel fine; he wouldn't even be surprised if his wounds had fully healed. And that was what was troubling.

Remembering back to what happened, he knew he should have been dead, if not, then grievously injured. Actually, come to think of it, he did die. He was sure of it. How else did he catch a small glimpse of Hell if he didn't die? But how was he still alive?

"Are you sure you're okay Dean?" Sam asked worriedly.

"Yeah sure, why wouldn't I be?" Dean cocked an eyebrow, and as if to prove a point, he quickly sat up in bed, wincing and grunting along the way.

"Dean! You shouldn't be getting up so soon. The doctor gave you specific orders to stay in bed at least for a couple of more days," Sam said getting up and preparing to keep Dean from getting out of bed.

"Doctor?" Dean asked, both brows raised and stopping short from placing both feet on the carpeted floor. Looking around, he noticed his arm was attached to IV's, his chest was hooked to a heart monitor and, to his dismay, he was wearing a hospital gown, "What the –? Oh hell no!" Well, at least the room didn't look like your average typical hospital room.

Sam was trying very hard not to crack a single smile at his brother's expected outburst, but Dean, taking notice of how hard Sam was trying not to laugh, snap crossly, "Well at least tell me we're not at some damn hospital."

_Yep, Dean's back to his old self_, Sam thought, sighing as he sat back down on a recliner that was positioned near Dean's bed.

"What do you remember?" He asked, sitting on the edge of his seat and looking over his brother carefully.

"Would that be before or after someone apparently couldn't resist my charms enough to strip me off my clothes and have me wear a gown?" Dean smirked.

"Dean," Sam said pleading exasperatedly, using his infamous puppy dog eyes on his brother.

Try as he might, he couldn't resist. With a sigh, he ran a hand through his hair before replying, "Everything, up until I lost consciousness on the way here – wherever here is." _Good, better not tell Sammy about the whole seeing Hell crap – no sense in having him worry._

"But first," Dean said, cutting Sam off, knowing his brother was going to tell him everything that had happened, "I want a double cheese burger with extra onions, Samantha."

"Okay jerk," Sam replied, amused, "you'll get your burger _if_ you stay in bed by the time I come back, and I can guarantee you're not going to believe what I've found out."

"Fine bitch," Dean huffed as he found a remote to the 37 inch plasma tv. As he surfed the channels, he couldn't help but worry about what his brother had 'supposedly' found when he watched his brother exiting the room.

* * *

"I can't. I just can't"

"What do you mean you can't? Of course you can."

"Yeah, that's easy for you to say," Elizabeth huffed; arms crossed as she stood her ground and stared challenging back at her sister.

"Damn it, don't act like this is your first werewolf. You and I both know you've killed plenty. Why are you making such a big deal of it?" Monica demanded.

"You know why. Look there's still time before the next full moon; we can still try to save him –"

"Goddamnit Elizabeth, if you had the chance to kill it when we did, none of this would've happened! We wouldn't have been tracking it and it wouldn't have destroyed so many families. Don't you realize it's too late to save him?" Monica seethed aggressively.

Not one sound came from the werewolf as it entertained itself by greedily watching the two sisters go toe to toe with one another in the cold, damp basement littered with the usual protective spells.

"Your sister's right, Elizabeth, it's almost four years too late to save him. Might as well put a silver bullet in his heart right now," Bobby said, stepping forward and taking out his gun as if he was going to do that gruesome task himself.

The wolf chastised himself when Bobby's voice made him jump, apparently forgetting about the two more presences that came down into the basement with the sisters that are now fighting over what to do with him.

"Don't you even dare, Bobby, or I'll cut off your balls," Elizabeth viciously threatened, stopping Bobby in his tracks.

Even though it wasn't the first time she threatened him this way, it was indeed the first time she mentioned his genitals. With that in mind, he decided for once to step back and not see if she would really go through with her threat.

"Elizabeth," Jennifer, who had been quietly observing the exchange, chastised her sister, "how could you say that? He's a friend for god's sake!"

"Lizzie, just listen to me," Monica beseeched, "he's dead, alright? There's nothing you can do about it, and this one here," she said gesturing to the wolf, "is a monster that's in dire need to be terminated. We destroy evil, and just like what we did back in Kansas, we have to do the same thing here."

Shaking her head, Elizabeth looked at Monica in disbelief, "How do you sleep at night? Must I remind you that you were the one that killed her? Are you that itchy to kill our family?"

"You know why I had to kill her, right? Or must I remind _you_ whose life was at stake there? It was either her or Jenny, and quite frankly, it wasn't all that hard to do," Monica said, voice lowering in a menacing manner, "so if you want me to kill him, I will, and nothing neither you nor Jenny will have a say in it."

Elizabeth let out a shaky breath, finally realizing that this isn't something she could fix overnight, "No, I want to do it. I have to do it. But not now. I want to wait a couple of days until Dean is well enough so they can clear off."

"Well that's gonna be a bitch to pull off," Jennifer stated.

"How so?"

"Because Sam's already suspicious enough as it is," Monica said, reading her sister's mind, "he's going to find out sooner or later about what we're planning to do to the werewolf."

"Not if I can help it. Don't you three worry about it, I'll make sure to keep Sam away from the basement at all costs necessary," Bobby offered.

"Thanks Bobby, for everything. Oh and I apologize for what I said earlier, but seeing as this is our problem and not yours or the Winchesters, I think we'll handle it. And you two ain't gonna like it," Elizabeth said this last with ominous smile.

"What do you have in mind?" Monica asked suspiciously.

"I want you, Monica, to stay with Dean at all times and keep him occupied by any means necessary. And I want you, Jenny, to do the same with Sam, by any means necessary as well," She ordered them sternly.

"And what? Seduce them? Is that even going to be in the job description?" Monica huffed, clearly not amused.

"What? No! Just do what you always do, y'know, spy on them, pretend to be their girlfriends or something. Just no sex, okay? Or I'll be tormented for the rest of my life that no amount of therapy will cure, and I'll disown either one of you if you do," Elizabeth said trying to intimidate her sisters.

"Now wait one minute, Elizabeth. What did I say about hurting the boys?" Bobby demanded aggressively.

"Don't worry, Bobby, we're not going to hurt them, right girls?" She said sweetly.

* * *

"You're shittin' me?"

"Nope. Apparently the girls have more secrets than the DaVinci Code."

"So the werewolf's in the basement? Huh, I wonder what they're going to do with it. I just hope they don't intend on keeping the thing," Dean said in between mouthfuls of his greasy cheese burger.

Sam, who's also eating a greasy burger of his own, only nodded in agreement. When he left his brother to go in search of some beer in the refrigerator, he couldn't help but overhear some of the girls' conversation coming from the basement. Even though he didn't hear all of it, what he did manage to hear, made him feel on edge. Apparently it seems that the girls, more specifically Elizabeth, were not looking to destroy the werewolf. Sam had wanted to stay rooted to his spot in hopes of catching more of their conversation, but the thought of his brother getting out of bed and risking pulling his stitches, made him grab the beer and hurry on to his brother's side.

At a groan from his brother, Sam snapped out of his reverie, rushed over to his brother and asked worriedly, "What's wrong? Are you okay?"

"Whoa dude, what did I tell you about personal space?" Dean groaned again as his flexed his left arm muscle, "Dude, how long did I sleep in one position, no less?"

Smiling that nothing was seriously wrong, Sam said cheerfully, "Almost twelve hours. Y'know, I think that was new world record for you."

"Shut up," Dean said. After a loud pop of his neck, he sighed contently and resumed eating after settling on watching _True Lies_.

"Dude, you can't be serious?" Sam almost whined when he saw what was showing – but _almost_.

"What? It's perfectly good movie," Dean said defensively, "Hey, you don't suppose Monica was anything like that Arnold Schwarzenegger character in that movie?"

"Don't you mean that Jamie Lee Curtis character?" Sam snickered.

Dean couldn't help but shudder at that thought as he tossed his trash in a bin, "Nah dude, that's too Mary Sue for me. Besides, I think she'd go all terminator on that Curtis chick character."

That stopped Sam's snickering as he thought back about what he had heard in the basement. He hadn't told Dean about it, and he wasn't going to, not unless he has substantial proof of the girl's deceitfulness.

"What's a matter Sammy? That burger didn't sit too well with you?"

"Like it always does with you?" Sam threw back, covering his tracks from his brother's careful gaze.

"Not bad Sammy. I must say it's not a great comeback, but with the right feminine attire to match your girly attitude, let's just say that there might be hope for you yet," Dean said in his most serious tone, hazel eyes carefully scrutinizing his brother and wishing that Sammy would tell his older brother whatever that was bothering him.

Sam had barely finished his meal when a small knock sounded on the door. Almost sighing in relief in thinking that he was saved from his brother's interrogating eyes, he never bothered to ask who was on the other side as he swung the door open wide.

"What are you doing here?" he asked apprehensively.

Dean tried looking curiously over Sam's towering frame from his position on the bed, but he pretty much guessed who would that be when a voice answered.

"Hi Sam, nice to see you too. But if you haven't noticed, you're under Elizabeth's roof, so if you don't mind –" Monica said as she moved past Sam and invited herself in.

"Jennifer wants you," she threw over her shoulder at Sam.

"Why?" Sam asked suspiciously.

"Now if I knew that, would you think I'd have told you?"

At Sam's raised eyebrows, she said, "Don't answer that. But just to let you know, I wouldn't keep her waiting if I were you."

Dean was smirking at his brother as he watched the inner struggle he knew his brother was having between wanting to stay and take care of his older brother, and knowing he should never keep a lady waiting, especially if it was Jennifer.

Deciding that it was best to find out what she needed, he sighed resignedly, "Fine, but you," he pointed at Dean, "are not to get up from that bed until _I_ say otherwise. Is that clear?"

"Yeah, sure, whatever," Dean said, almost bored as he turned his attention back to the tv.

"I mean it Dean, I don't want you to tear those stitches out before you even have a chance to heal," Sam said sternly. Once he was satisfied that Dean was going to listen to him for once, he stepped out of the room, but was shortly halted by a small hand on his forearm.

Clearing her throat, Monica said in a low voice so as not to let Dean overhear, "Listen Sam, about earlier...back in the park…I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"I can see how close you and your brother are, and it wasn't right of me to intrude –"

Shaking the apology aside, Sam said, "Listen. I should be thanking _you_. Whatever you did, you kept him alive. I mean, you three even gave us a roof over our heads, and you even patched Dean up. Thanks."

"Don't mention it," Monica said, waving the gratitude aside. _Geez, what the hell can I still do to get him off of our tails?_

Sam just smiled at her as he went to see what the youngest sister wanted._ Ahh, the things I do for Dean. Kissing his girlfriend's ass and I still didn't get what I was looking for. Maybe Jennifer might be an easier prey._

Just as soon as Sam walked out that door, Dean turned to Monica, begging, "Quick, get me outta here before he comes back."

"Sorry, no can do. You're all on your own on that one."

"So if you're not here to bail me out, then why are you here?"

"Company," Monica said simply.

"Let me guess, your big sister set you up for this?" Dean asked knowingly.

"I have no idea what you mean," she said, feigning innocence as she sat down on the recliner that Sam used when he sat vigilant by Dean's side, waiting for his big brother to show some sign that he was going to be alright.

"Ah, denial. The best answer in the world," he stated as he turned up the volume, "So how are you really?"

"What?"

"You were thrown into a tree. So…how bad are you hurt?"

"You're not seriously considering watching this movie, are you?" she asked, ignoring his last question.

He took a moment to look at her – _she seems okay_ – before Dean sighed, "Why? You have a problem with Schwarzenegger?"

"Nah, it's more like I have a problem with Jamie Lee's character."

At Dean's bewildered look, she stated, "Too Mary Sue for me."

"What do you mean by that? She practically took care of herself and dealt with the bad guys," he refuted.

"Yeah, after all that kicking and screaming she did at first," she shot back.

"So what did Jennifer want Sam for?" he asked, deciding it would be the perfect time to change the subject.

"To go to Portland with her to help her bring back Bobby's truck and the Impala," she said, matter-of-factly.

"Wait, you left the Impala there all by herself?"

"Your baby's fine, Dean. Uh, do you mind changing the channel?"

"Well, it's either this, Bourne Supremacy, or Golden Eye. Which do you want to see?"

"He told you, didn't he?" Monica said perspicaciously, looking at him as she folded her arms across her chest.

"What do you mean?" Dean said feigning innocence like what Monica did earlier.

"Ah, denial. The best answer in the world," she said, reciting his earlier words.

"Well then, why don't you tell me something about yourself?"

"Can't."

"Why not?" _Don't all women love talking about themselves?_

"It's complicated."

"How complicated can it be?" Dean persisted, turning off the tv and giving her his full attention.

Taking a deep breath, Monica said, "Fine. What do you want to know?" _Ah what the hell._

* * *

"So let me get this straight, your mom was a model? I thought she was a dental hygienist?" Dean asked bewildered.

A little over two hours after many persuasions, drilling, and non-stop constant questioning, he had finally managed to get Monica to open up and talk about – at least – her parents. She's one tough cookie to crack, he'll give her that, but he enjoyed the challenge it gave him.

"It was a ruse that my dad made up. You see, his family wouldn't want him to marry someone who was beneath him or he'll be disowned and disinherited, so he made everyone believe that his model wife was a dental hygienist. Sad to say, she perfected the role amazingly," Monica said bitterly.

"I take it you don't like your mom, do you?"

"Let's just say she and I weren't exactly close," she said, refusing to say any more.

Respecting her in her wish not to comment any more on her mother, Dean inquired instead, "And what about your dad? What was he like?"

She gave him a tiny smile at that even though he couldn't make out what was being unsaid in her eyes, "He was a great man. Easy to talk to, easy to ask a favor of him, just basically an all-around nice guy. He was the smartest man I knew."

_Well that helped_, Dean thought unbelievably, shaking his head. He was hoping to hit pay dirt with what he was going to find out. He knew his brother was still wrapped around the thought that if they weren't careful, the sisters might one day stab them in the backs. He had hoped, with the information he thought was going to get, that, that would alleviate his brother's worries and consider the girls _alright_.

Unfortunately that didn't seem to be the case when he tried prying information out of Monica. To best sum it up, it was like talking to a brick wall. All he found out was how her father got started in the real estate business that made him into the billionaire everyone knew and respected. And let's not start on her mother; Dean could not even begin to believe how someone like her father could ever marry someone that was a very selfish, very vain, very ignorant, and an all-around brainless person such as her mother._ Wait, didn't Sammy say something about her parents being MIA?_

"May I ask what happened to your parents?" Dean started delicately and subtlety as possible.

Monica looked at him in the eyes as she took her time before replying, "You may ask, but I can't guarantee that you'll be satisfied with my answer."

Taking a deep breath and making sure anything on her face is completely unreadable, she continued, "My parents went missing a few years back, and even now I have no idea where they are or what have become of them."

"How did you get into hunting?" Dean fired at once.

"How else?" Monica asked casually as she shrugged her shoulders, "All hunters get into hunting out of either revenge or obsession."

Dean tried not to shudder as he remembered hearing Bela saying something closely similar to what Monica said.

"So what's your reason?" Dean asked after he found his voice.

"Righteousness."

"What do you mean?"

"Why don't we talk about you?" Monica asked abruptly, changing the subject.

* * *

"You see? That wasn't so hard after all, now was it?" Monica said getting up.

After four hours of talking non-stop of his up-bringing, the trials and tribulations of raising Sam, and every little thing about himself including his fears, Dean was amazed that he… felt good – for the first time in a long time. He had to giver to her – she was as much as a good listener as he was, if not better, as she encouraged him and prodded him by asking questions of her own as well as advised him and empathized with him. Hell, she acted as if she was his psychiatrist._ A pretty damn good psychiatrist. Damn, I have never opened up like this before – not even with Cassie._

"Where do you think you're going?" he asked as she placed her hand on the knob to open the door.

Monica made the mistake of looking back at him as the forlorn expression on his face was so pitiful that she couldn't help but laugh at him.

"Now what's so freakin' amusing?" he asked irritably as he finally got out of bed.

"Dean! You shouldn't be out of bed until Elizabeth had a chance to check you over," she reprimanded as she made to push him back on the bed.

"I'm fine," he huffed as he sidestepped her, "it doesn't even hurt anymore."

"Now look at what you've done," she said, shaking her head at him as he grunted when the forgotten IV's pulled.

"Just sit down, you arrogant jerk, before you aggravate the situation further," she said agitatedly, "and might as well let me check your wound," she added as an afterthought.

"What?" he asked when he saw the concerned, puzzled look on her face when she removed the bandages on his abdomen after removing the IVs and the heart monitor.

Biting her lip in deep thought of how to tell him, she began slowly, "I'm no doctor, but I think you're completely healed. There doesn't seem to be a trace that there even was a wound…"

* * *

"You did WHAT?!"

After getting Elizabeth and then Bobby to check Dean over, he was given a clean bill of health and was ready to hit the road when Sam and Jennifer brought back Bobby's truck and his very own pride and joy, but after much persuasion from Bobby himself, he and Sam had agreed to stick around a little longer.

Monica mused that Dean and Sam were no doubt in the large game room upstairs which they'd spent the better part of two hours as she cornered her sister in the family office.

"Did I stutter? Would you want me to speak slowly for you?"

"How could you?" Monica seethed, ignoring her sister's smart-ass retort.

"Oh stop being such a hypocrite, Monica," her sister threw over her shoulder spitefully as she crossed the room and headed towards the door.

As she opened the door, she turned to her sister and asked coldly, "Don't tell me you never did it in the profession you had? "

She was surprised that the door slammed shut when she opened it half-way. Finding the source of it, she quickly located the hand that was placed on it and followed it to its owner that was now towering over her in pure rage.

"You leave when _I _tell you too," Monica spat lividly. Apparently her sister didn't notice her striding over to keep her sister from leaving.

"Or what?" she asked hatefully as she tried to cover up how scared she felt, "What can you possibly do to me that you haven't done to Mom?"

"You think I'm worse?" Monica asked incredulously, thinking of all the evil sonsofbitches they killed.

"You're the one with the mounting body count," she pointed out defiantly, "besides, who could possibly be worse than you?"

"We can bring Lizzie into this if you want," Monica said, threatening her little sister.

"You wouldn't dare," Jennifer gasped, shocked.

"Try me," Monica challenged.

Jennifer couldn't hide the quiver in her voice any longer when she said, "Please, don't tell Lizzie. She wouldn't understand. Let's just keep this between you and me okay?"

Monica looked at her sister for one full minute, compassion etching across her face until her stoic expression she mastered so well replaced the compassionate one, knowing her older sister deserves the right to know what Jennifer did, "I can't guarantee it. But please just tell me you used protection?"

Jennifer grinned, "Of course! I wouldn't have had him any other way."

* * *

"What are you grinning about?" Dean asked Sam when he looked at his brother over the pool table.

"What? Nothing," Sam said a little too quickly, wiping the grin off of his face.

"Yeah, sure," Dean said, and deciding not to press his brother, he asked, "So, what have you found out?"

"About what?" Sam looked perplexed.

"You're kidding me, right? You wouldn't have agreed to go with Jennifer unless you wanted to get her alone to interrogate her. So, what did you find?"

At Sam's averted gaze, he grew suspicious, "What happened?"

"Nothing," Sam said.

"Nothing," Sam repeated persistently, when he caught Dean's disbelieving eyes.

"So what did _you_ find out?" he said, desperate to change the subject.

Shaking his head as he resumed the play, Dean said, "Nothing useful."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Sam questioned.

"It means, Sam, that I think I might have screwed up" Dean admitted, disgusted at himself, the game forgotten, "I mean, spending over six freakin' hours alone with her, and all I did was spend four freakin' hours talking about myself while all she talked about was her parents. Nothing about her or her sisters except what we already knew," he finished agitatedly.

Sam stood, gaping at his brother, "You mean to tell me you dished all your heart and soul to her?"

"Sam –"

"You had a chick-flick moment, did you?"

"Sam –!"

"Wow man, you let her get one on you, did you?"

"SAM –!"

Once Dean had the younger hunter's attention, he threatened, "If you tell this to anyone, I'll kick your ass."

Sam took his brother's threat like a grain of salt, "Dude, you have to admit, no one – and I mean no one – has been able to get you to open up about anything, but all of a sudden this chick comes along and you up and told her everything?"

"Hey, she is not just some 'chick' –"

Sam ignored him and continued, "I thought you liked her? But there you were trying to get some information from her when she turned the tables and have you squealed like a pig."

"Look whose talkin'. You were the one that didn't trust them at first remember? Always askin' questions, it's like you're the one that's asking not to be trusted. And FYI, I do like her."

"Does she know?"

"No, and she's never going to."

"Well that's healthy. Why?"

At Dean's intense stare and his locked jaw, Sam answered his own question, "You're protecting her, aren't you? You're distancing yourself from her to protect her?"

When Dean refused to say anything more, Sam continued despite his brother's growing temper and discomfort, "You're afraid you'll go to Hell and leave her, right? You're afraid of hurting her, right? You're a real selfish jackass, y'know that?" Sam fired, hitting Dean below the belt, "Listen Dean, you are _not_ going to Hell. We'll get you out of your deal and you can be with Monica – that I promise you. Hell, we can still get the girls to help –"

"Sam," Dean said in a harsh tone, "I don't want to hear it –"

"Well that's too bad Dean," Sam argued, getting frustrated more and more at his pig-headed of a brother, "For once, you're going to listen to me if –"

The next thing Sam knew was a blinding, throbbing pain as his jaw connected with Dean's hard-worked, calloused hand.

Sam, who used to be the most mild-tempered one in the family and used to always forgive and forget, decided that now was not the time to play the nice guy.

Dean ducked just in the nick of time as Sam's swung his fist around, hoping to connect with anything that's Dean's.

The crashing noise of the very expensive, priceless pool table caught the attention of Bobby and Elizabeth who had been holed up in the library pouring over books on how to get rid of their uninvited guest for the past several hours.

Thinking that they better interfere before the boys' start killing each other, they rushed in but stopped just as Sam was rolling on top of Dean to get in a better right hook. Dean blocked his brother's right hook and lodged his knee in Sam's ribs to throw the younger man off of him. The grunting and groaning with the additional sounds of breaking furniture and equipment, clashed onto one another almost like a crazed symphony orchestra.

"What should we do?" Elizabeth asked, merriment dancing in her brown eyes as she became an onlooker to the brothers' fight, not caring that they were dismantling the game room.

"Ah let them be," responded Bobby, unsure if he should be pissed off, concerned, or amused at their fight, "they'll tire themselves out before they kill each other."

Neither brother seemed to realize they had caught a crowd, nor seemed to realize they had lost them.

A few more minutes past before both brothers were lying next to each other on the floor and panting out of exhaustion, both supporting new bruises to their handsome features.

Sam was the first to break the silence, "And FYI big brother, it wasn't Monica I didn't trust. It was her sisters."

"What do you mean?" Dean inquired, looking at his brother and noticed him sporting a real nice shiner – a shiner _he_ gave him.

"I overheard the sisters talking in the basement when I was looking for the beer, and it seems that Monica's the only one that's gun-ho in killing the werewolf, but it looks like her sisters aren't too keen to see that happen," Sam admitted, feeling around his ribs to make sure they were still intact – _'cause they hurt like shit!_

"So that's why you went with Jennifer? To question her about that damn wolf?"

"Yeah, only it didn't work."

"Now what's that supposed to mean?" Dean muttered out wearily.

"Now before you have an aneurysm –" Sam began, but Dean cut him off.

"Don't tell you and she did –" Dean started, but stopped.

Starting again, he asked as calmly as possible without trying to raise his voice and alert the older sister, "Please tell me you used protection."

Sam grinned, "She wouldn't have wanted me any other way."

* * *

"You don't trust us?" Elizabeth asked, shock and disbelief written all over her face as she stared hard at Bobby.

After spending almost twenty-four hours searching one supernatural book after another for a way to deal with the werewolf with running on nothing but caffeine and the little reprieve they took when watching the brothers' fight, the answer that they had been looking for had finally been found, alleviating both Bobby's and Elizabeth's fears that the mystery of the werewolf might stay hidden.

"You know I do. It's just that I don't trust you and Jennifer when it concerns that damn wolf," Bobby countered as he slammed the book he was looking at and left the library.

"And what is that supposed to mean?" Elizabeth demanded, following Bobby.

"Do you really want to know?" Bobby stopped in the kitchen and turned to face her.

At Elizabeth's raised brow, he continued, "You remembered what happened last time you had that werewolf in your clutches? Both of you jumped Monica and trapped her in a bathroom to keep her from putting a bullet in him."

"As unfortunate as that was, I can assure you it won't happen again," she promised him, eyes narrowed and jaw set in a stance that clearly meant that she didn't want to discuss it further.

"It better not, which is why I want Dean and Sam involved in this," Bobby growled out.

"Why? What do you hope to gain with the Winchester's involvement?" Elizabeth inquired.

"At least to make sure you two don't screw up this time. Now get everyone down there while I set up the ritual," he ordered as he continued towards the basement.

She stood there a moment longer with her mouth agape, staring at the space where Bobby had occupied a minute earlier before she went in search of her sisters and the brothers.

* * *

The werewolf stared defiantly at the group that surrounded him, sizing each up to find a weak link in which to get himself free of. Settling his sights on the eldest sister, he sneered when he found his ticket to freedom.

He could see it in her eyes that she didn't want to do this, and the fear radiating off of her was like a breath of fresh air of freedom to him.

Elizabeth was truly afraid, not for herself or her sisters, but for what might happen after she loses him.

"You know you don't have to do this," Monica offered, sensing her sister's distress.

Shaking her head, Elizabeth squared her shoulders and replied, "No, I _have_ to do this. It doesn't matter on whether I want to or not – it's just something I have to do.

Monica smiled understandingly as she squeezed her sister's shoulder in comfort.

After Elizabeth waited until Bobby was done prepping the ritual, she took a moment to steady herself, taking in a deep shaky breath, before walking up to the werewolf who was smiling evilly at her.

Bending down slightly so that their eyes meet – eyes filled with pure unconditional love meeting eyes filled with pure unconditional evil – she smiled sadly, "Hi daddy."

**TBC...**

A/N: Please let me know what you think! :D


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: Thanks to the amazing darksupernatural! Here's another chapter - please let me know what you think! ;D

**Chapter 7**

Bending down slightly so that their eyes meet – eyes filled with pure unconditional love meeting eyes filled with pure unconditional evil – she smiled sadly, "Hi daddy."

_"Hi daddy"_

_"Daddy"_

With just that one word, that one word that identified who the mystery werewolf was, was like a hard punch to the gut for Sam. Ever since he met the sisters all he ever thought about was unearthing their secrets, always knowing that there was more than meets the eye. But this… this was more than he had ever hoped to find. _No wonder Elizabeth and Jennifer wants to save him. But then why is Monica hell bent on destroying her family?_

Looking over at his brother, he could see the same open-mouthed expression that was etched all over his face. He could tell his brother no doubt had the wrong assumptions about the sisters like he did. _Well, as the saying goes, 'assuming makes an ass out of you and me."_

Sam shuddered to think of what would happen if it had been _him_ trapping John in order to kill him. Would he have done it?

He almost had that chance once when his father was possessed by the thing that killed Mary. Sam still remembered what it was like to be torn between saving a father and destroying an evil piece of shit. As much as he wanted to pull the trigger himself, he knew he didn't have it in him to commit such an act, especially to his father…and especially to Dean.

And in that aspect, he knew Elizabeth wouldn't have it in her to conduct an act that would surely kill her, and he knew Jennifer would no doubt feel the same way. But Monica proved to be another matter; her constant cautiousness around people, never being able to trust blindly, and impressive walls that had been built around her (to rival Dean, that is) are difficult to say that she felt the same as her sisters concerning their father.

Dean, on the other hand, wondered around the same things. But he also knew Monica knew what had to be done, and he admired her for it. He knew her strength is what kept the sisters together doing what had to be done to the evil in the world – now that the war has begun.

Looking at Elizabeth's and Jennifer's uncertainness but yet determinedness concerning the werewolf, he knew that they were going to stop at nothing until they saved one of their own. Lord knows he would too, if it had been his dad, but then he remembered what happened to Madison: Sam loved her – he was willing to try anything to save her – but in the end, to his and her dismay, he had to kill her. It was too late for her just like it was now with the sisters' father.

And he knew things were going to get ugly. It didn't matter who's wrong or right – what matters was that Elizabeth and Jennifer were hell bent on saving their father instead of doing what was needed to be done: killing him. And what else mattered was the fact that it definitely looked like they will not allow Monica to go through with killing him.

"Hey pumpkin," replied their father in a somewhat gentle comforting tone, the sneer on his face accompanying with the malevolent look in his eyes was the only telltale sign deceiving his false fatherly love.

"How are you doin'? We didn't tie the ropes too hard, did we?" Elizabeth asked concernedly. Monica tried not to roll her eyes at her sister's unnecessary questions.

"I'm fine, sweetheart. Hey, why don't you be a good girl and untie your old man?"

"Why don't you suck it up _like_ a man and tell us what we need to know," Monica stepped in before her sister seriously considered her father's wishes and untied him.

Everyone in the room held their breath, not knowing who was going to start swinging punches: Elizabeth, Monica, or Enrique. Actually, observing Monica's attitude towards her dad, and vice versa, no one knew who loathed each other more as the tension heated up to almost an all-time high. Dean unconsciously stepped closer to Monica as he felt overprotective over her.

A few tense moments passed by as father and daughter stared hard at each other, each hoping to break one another before he spoke mockingly, "What do you want to know? Huh? How 'Mommy' and 'Daddy' abandoned you when they wanted a son? Or how you were left out of an inheritance?"

All she did was sneered back as she was taught not to fall for the enemy's tricks from working for the CIA, "Actually, you can start by telling us what you are. You see, no normal everyday werewolf can stay in its animal form when there is no full moon, and yet no typical werewolf can slaughter large families and flay the skins off of them. So I'm guessing you've picked up some neat new tricks. Care to share?"

Shaking his head as he chuckled, he scoffed, "I always knew you were the smart one. But what happens if I don't 'care to share'? You're not gonna off me like you did my poor dead wife, now are you?"

Both brothers jerked their heads up at that as they both looked at her questioningly – Sam staring at her in horror while Dean's eyes searched for some form of confirmation if the atrocity she had committed was true, but never once doubting her in her capabilities of handling the situation. After all, her father did turn out to be a werewolf. There was no telling what her mother might have become.

Elizabeth looked like she was about ready to interfere in Monica's interrogation when she heard what the werewolf said, but fortunately for the little group, Jennifer held her sister back.

Monica just smiled at him, whipping out a dagger seemingly from out of nowhere, "I'll tell you what: If you don't start talking, I'll start removing all your fingernails. If that doesn't work, I'll remove your teeth starting with your canines and work myself all the way around your oral cavity. And if that doesn't work, I'll neuter you. But even if that doesn't work, I'll start removing each of your senses starting with your sense of hearing," she threatened in his ear, a sincere smile planted on her face while she slowly moved her blade across the body parts as she mentioned them.

When the werewolf didn't respond, she narrowed her eyes and demanded as sweetly as possible, "Did I make myself clear?"

Enrique looked up at her impressively, "I also knew you were the strong one. But y'know, I'm just not in the mood for storytelling –"

He didn't get to finish before Monica rolled her eyes and tipped the chair over, sending her father on his back. Bending down as she pushed the blade against his throat, she whispered in his ear in Spanish, "You start talking or I'll cut off your balls and make you choke on them. Understand?"

She righted the chair when she saw him nodded slowly in agreement, eyes narrowed in deepest hatred for his daughter.

Keeping his loathsome eyes on his daughter, he said with contempt dripping in his voice, "About three months ago when we last_ saw_ each other I came across something – some_thing_ that shared my cravings for power and violence. Somet_hing_ that, like me, was made out of pure evil. Some_thing_ that escaped and now wanted to cause chaos," he laughed evilly as his eyes shifted over to black orbs.

"A demon?" Elizabeth gasped.

"Well, that's a first," Monica said nonchalantly as she shrugged her shoulders, clearly not surprised.

Everyone became more on guard as they didn't expect to be dealing with a demon. The only ones that seemed nonchalant about it even though they are a little more wary were Monica and Bobby.

"Well, you don't see that every day," Dean said, after getting over the original shock of this revelation and excitedly as he poked Sam in the ribs.

His smiled quickly faded when he saw that Sam didn't find the little situation amusing at all.

"So what happened next?" Monica asked her possessed-werewolf father.

Shrugging his shoulders, he said, "I made a deal." And as if to prove his point while he chuckled demonically, he tried breaking free from his binds.

His attempt at breaking free soon ended when he tried harder and harder to break binds that normal demons could easily break. Looking maliciously at his middle child, he noticed her very own snide smile and eyes having that same malicious look as she pointed to the ceiling with her eyes.

Looking straight up at the ceiling, he saw something that made him angry. Very, very angry. He didn't know what it was – some kind of ritual sign, maybe? – but whatever it was, he knew it was the sole purpose that was keeping him strapped to his chair and suppressing his newly demonic powers.

"It's called a Devil's Trap," Monica informed, liking to see him squirm in full-on pissed off mode, "It's there to keep demonic entities like the one you're carrying, trapped. Now, how about you tell us how you made the deal? What kind of deal is it? What's in it for you? And who's the demon you made the deal with?"

"I ain't telling you shit," he spat out defiantly.

"Please Daddy?" Elizabeth cut in before Monica did anything she might regret.

The lines around the father's eyes softened at the pleading tone in his oldest daughter's voice, and with some quick thinking, he decided – for Elizabeth – to tell all.

Keeping his eyes solely on his oldest, he replied softly in a quivering tone, suddenly afraid, "Lilith. Her name's Lilith. She told me she was recruiting soldiers for her private little war against one Samuel Winchester. She was not only gathering fellow demons but anything and everything supernatural. Any creature known to the supernatural world is now under her reign of power. Some went willingly, but those who defy her are forced to join, hence being possessed, but yet not truly possessed."

"What do you mean?" Elizabeth asked quickly when she noticed Monica opening her mouth to continue questioning.

"The demon inside me is not truly taking over my body to the point that I'll lose control, but it is there only to keep me in line…and to allow me to use its demonic powers. Only at times when I try to rebel against it, it possesses me for a moment and punishes me. I would wake up with lacerations and bruises on my body without knowing how it got there in the first place."

"So why aren't you with your little friends?" Monica pressed before her sister had a chance to cut her off again.

Enrique didn't seem to notice who was questioning him anymore as he felt he finally found some help with his 'little' problem, "I was on my way to where Lilith's army was stationed, but then I guess my demonic self sensed you three were tracking me and I had to get you three off my trail."

"So that's why you gave us one hell of a cat-and-mouse chase?" piped up Jennifer who had been silently observing her older sisters interrogate their father.

"Elizabeth!" Enrique burst out, wild eyes urgently seeking out his daughter as he ignored his youngest while making everybody else jump.

Once his eyes sought her, he suddenly pleaded hoarsely, "Please sweetie, you have to get out of here! Please! They'll be coming for you!"

"Who? Why?" Elizabeth asked urgently as she bends down so she and her father can see each other face to face.

"Lizzie, listen honey, Lilith wants you…you and your sisters. I don't know what for, but it must be bad. Please just leave me here and go far away from here as you can…before it's too late," Enrique beseeched, close to panic.

Elizabeth's heart swelled for love and concern for her father as she searched his face for any indication that he might be lying. Her father meant the whole world to her and she'd trust him without question or doubt, but spending these few years in the world of hunting her father, trusting him now would only become fatal to everyone.

Opening her mouth to respond to her father, she abruptly felt a strong grip on her shoulder and be forcefully pulled away from Enrique.

"We need to talk," Monica commanded as she led both her sisters away from the werewolf's line of hearing.

* * *

Seeing Monica in a deep discussion with her sisters, Dean decided to take matters into his own hands and conduct an interrogation of his own.

Stepping up to the werewolf, he fired none too kindly, "Where's Lilith?"

Enrique flinched at the sharp tone of someone who clearly didn't look like he wanted to piss off.

Looking at the young man before him as he found the source, his eyes shifted into black once more as he smiled venomously, "Dean Winchester, what a pleasure."

Never losing his stride even though he was expecting to be talking to the werewolf and not his demonic half, Dean smiled back just as venomously, "You tell me where Lilith is or I swear I'll send you back to hell and dispose of your meat suit."

"Don't hurt yourself, Dean, or you just might pull something," the demon taunted, "Besides, _you_ won't be sending me down there before _your_ time is up. And as for this meat suit, the sister's will be damned if you do _any_thing to hurt this baby."

"Where is Lilith?" He demanded again.

"Oh poor pitiful Dean Winchester, never one to be satisfied until you get what you want, is that right? If you were smart, you'd already know the answer to your question."

Before Dean could make a snarky comeback, the demon yielded, "Alright, I'll tell you."

"But not before I get my chance to torture you myself when I see you writher and scream in hell," the demon laughed.

Dean looked ready to throw a right hook, drown the sucker in holy water, and maybe have Sam to send his sorry ass back to whatever demonic hell-hole he crawled out of. But when Sam saw his brother's urge to do something impulsive and reckless, he placed a hand on his brother's shouldered and warned, "Dean –"

"Yes Dean! Listen to your brother. It seems like it's been such an extremely long time since you listened to Sammy here," the demon jumped in.

"You utter another word out of your shitty mouth, and I'll start throwing you some of this," Dean threatened as he showed the possessed werewolf his flask of holy water that he keeps in his jacket pocket for emergencies.

Taking Dean by the arm and leading him away from the demonically-possessed-werewolf like what Monica did earlier, Sam implored, "Dean, what if we're wrong about this? What if Enrique doesn't really know Lilith's whereabouts?"

"C'mon Sam, demons lie. You know that –"

"Dean, Sam has a point," Bobby put in, "I don't think the demon had control over the werewolf when it told Elizabeth everything. For all we know, it might be telling the truth – ah shit."

Looking around to see what had caught Bobby's eye, Dean turned around just in time to see Elizabeth swinging a punch at her sister. Heart in his throat, he rushed over alongside his brother and Bobby.

* * *

"Please don't tell me you believed a single word that came out of his mouth," Monica said, shaking her head at her sister in disbelief.

"Monica, there is absolutely no reason why I shouldn't. If Lilith is on her way here, then we have to go ASAP," Elizabeth implored.

"Demons lie, Lizzie, but if you want to go, then fine. We'll all go, but we can't leave the werewolf here by itself."

"Can I say something?" piped up Jennifer.

She continued when she saw her two older sisters stop bickering, "Elizabeth, Monica, what if we're wrong about all of this? I mean we don't know if something disastrous will come out of it."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Monica asked exasperatedly.

"Remember the time we were up against our first wendigo? We shot it with silver bullets before we found that fire did the trick."

"How was I supposed to know –" Elizabeth started defending herself.

"And remember what happened with Mom? We drove a stake through her heart before we found out the only way to kill her was decapitating her. And let's not forget our very first demon –"

"Yeah, I remember it was you who accidently sent it to another dimension –" Monica began.

Jennifer gave her a look and said frustratingly, "That's not what I mean. Look, we've been at this game for how long? Almost four years right? Our supernatural knowledge is next to zilch meaning we are the most highly pathetic hunters ever. We've made way too many mistakes and it baffles me even now how we managed to save all those people. We cannot afford another mistake, especially if it's with Dad."

"Which is why I've suggested that we better take care of him before we leave, 'cause I sure as hell do not want him to be left alone."

Nodding her head, Elizabeth acquiescent, "I agree with you. We should take him with us. We can protect him better and –"

"Whoa wait a minute," Monica said holding out her hand, "I wasn't talking about taking him with us and protecting him. I was more thinking in the line of terminating him right here, right now. If we do that, Lilith won't have any use of him. You'll not only hurt him but you'll hurt us if you let him live."

Shaking her head, Elizabeth said adamantly, "I can't – and you won't make me."

"Didn't we just have this discussion before? I thought you and I saw eye to eye in what to do about him –"

"Yeah but that was before we found out about him making deals with demons and him carrying one right now. This changes everything, don't you know that? Now we have to protect him from Lilith and her goons –"

"Damn it Lizzie! This does not change everything – not even the fact of what he is and what he's done. We send his demonic sonofabitch self back to Hell, and we'll send his sorry ass down with it," Monica said venomously as she turned her back on her sister to head back to the werewolf.

"The hell you will," Elizabeth threatened as she gripped her sister's arm and swung her around as she threw a punch.

Monica quickly side-stepped it as she grabbed the arm and twisted it around her sister's back. She then pinned her sister to the wall and whipped out her gun and pointed it at Elizabeth's head to keep her from squirming.

She didn't have to guess whose gun was pointed at her when she heard the unmistakable sound of a gun cocked. Risking a glance, Monica's guess was accurately correct as she saw her youngest sister pointing a gun at her.

Another sound of a gun cocked made her take her eyes off of the determined look in Jennifer's eyes and instead settled them in the cold, rigid hardened face of Dean Winchester as he pointed his own weapon on Jennifer's head. Her heart swelled in pride as she felt herself liking him more and more as she watched him when he warned "Don't even think about it."

It looked almost too ironic or too cliché for Sam and Bobby to see Dean pointing his weapon at Jennifer, Jennifer pointing her weapon at Monica, and Monica pointing her weapon at Elizabeth as she kept her sister's arm twisted, effectively keeping her pinned to the wall.

Jennifer thought for a moment as she weighed her choices between surrendering to Dean and being loyal to Elizabeth. Throughout Elizabeth's and Monica's interrogation of their father, she felt a tinge of jealously as she observed her oldest sister's affection towards their father. She wished she could have had that with Enrique, but she knew, just like everyone else, that Lizzie was _his_ daughter – no one else. Just like she was her mother's daughter and no one else, which is why some part of her understood the resentment Monica had felt with their parents.

But still, no matter how pissed off you were with your family, they will always be your family, and family looks out for each other, right? That's why she preferred to stand by Elizabeth rather than Monica: family means loyalty among other things, and if that means going to great lengths to save their father, then so be it. Monica just didn't get it.

But as the seconds ticked by with Jennifer still weighing her options, she finally realized that Monica was going to get her way after all. If it was just her and Elizabeth, they would have easily restrained her just like the last time. But throw Dean and Sam into the mix, and they're screwed.

Huffing out a sigh in defeat, Jennifer finally lowered her weapon as she glared at her sister.

After Dean reassured himself that Jennifer was no longer a threat, he too lowered his weapon.

Monica, seeing both Jennifer and Dean lowering their weapons, lowered hers and stepped away from her sister. After making sure Elizabeth wouldn't try that again, Monica asked, "Now are we going to do this my way?"

"That depends if you have anything good in that mind of yours," Elizabeth huffed sarcastically, rotating her shoulder to get rid of the stiffness.

"Ah Lizzie, I thought you'd never asked," Monica said just as sarcastically, "We're going to exorcise it."

"Bobby –?" Monica asked, turning to their old friend.

"Wait a minute," Elizabeth cut in, and turning to Bobby accusingly she asked, "I thought we were trying to find out what kind of werewolf we were dealing with. You never said anything about exorcisms."

Bobby looked her in the eye and gruffly replied, "Monica had suspected that the damn wolf might be possessed so she asked me to find an exorcism rite for this particular occasion since we're obviously not dealing with a normal human being."

Elizabeth looked like she was slapped in the face as she stood with her mouth opening and closing as she fought hard to come up with a remark to that.

With that being said, Bobby turned away from Elizabeth's gaze and started the exorcism.

The grueling minutes passed by with the wretched harsh cries of pain coming from the wolf as the demon inside tried everything within its power to keep itself from being forcefully expelled out.

Each cry the wolf ushered out of his mouth was greatly felt by his daughter. Elizabeth felt each of her father's cry like if it was her own, and Monica did her best to keep a firm strong hold on her sister to keep her from going to their father.

After the successful exorcism and after making sure Enrique was completely free from the demonic entity, Monica softly ordered, "Sam, Bobby, get them out of here."

"What –?" Jennifer asked in disbelief, turning hurt eyes to Monica as she started feeling betrayed.

"No –!" Elizabeth protested, wanting desperately to try to stop her sister from doing what she knew she was going to do, but was prevented by a strong arm half-carrying and half leading her out of the basement.

The girls continued struggling, protesting and bitching way after they were escorted out of the basement, accompanied by the men's grunts and groans as the girls' fists, nails, and boots connected with something soft.

Monica led out a small sigh of relief once she didn't hear her sisters' struggles knowing that they were being taken farther into the house.

"Are you ready for this?" Dean asked concernedly.

Monica offered him a weak smile, "Ask me that when this is over."

Monica couldn't help herself feeling apprehension as she neared her father, but drew comfort in knowing that Dean has her back.

After the exorcism worked and the demon was gone, Enrique engaged himself as he looked on in amusement as his middle child bossing her two other sisters around like a damn drill sergeant. Looking behind her at Dean, he instantly knew just by looking at him that he would no doubt protect her with his life.

As Monica took out her favorite Desert Eagle loaded with silver bullets, her face completely void of any kind of emotion, Enrique couldn't help himself as he laughed mockingly.

She let him laugh a couple of more minutes before asking curiously, "Now what's so funny?"

Enrique composed himself enough to look her in the eye, and smiling snidely, he stated confidently seething, "_My_ daughter doesn't have the guts to kill me."

Bending down slightly so that she and her father can see eye to eye, she smiled just as snidely, "True. _Your_ daughter doesn't. But I'm not your daughter, now am I?"

Enrique's eyes grew wide in fear at his daughter's insinuation, but before he could utter any type of protest, he heard the shot ring out and felt the piercing pain wrecked his body. The unbelievable agony the seeping wound provided was short lived as he slumped forward, dead.

**TBC...**


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: I apologize if I had not gotten back to any one of you who left a review and anyone in particular. I haven't even been to any of my emails in over a week as college is seriously continuing to kick my ass. I have a fiction final draft due this Monday, I have to study for my Psych test that's also on Monday, and I have to prepare a freakin' 7-10 minute persuasive speech for my communications class. All I seem to have time for is eat, sleep and study - and I am close to pulling my own hair out LOL :)

A/N: Thank you darksupernatural for being an awesome beta, a fantastic friend, an even tremendous supporter, and for giving me great advice. And thanks to Mish (if it's okay I can call you that - if not, let me know!) for giving me wonderful advice as well :D And thanks to those who has left a review!! ;D Enjoy!

**Chapter 8**

Clenching and unclenching her jaw, Monica stared at the bullet hole on her father's chest a minute more before abruptly turning around and walking off.

Dean continued staring at what was once a highly successful man but was now nothing more than an evil supernatural being that needed to be disposed of before he realized that Monica was no longer in the same room with him. Bounding back up the stairs, he was met with Sam nursing a beer at the table and by the look of him, he looked like hell.

"Where's –?" Dean started to ask.

Sam answered, knowing who his brother was referring to, "She left."

"What's wrong?" Dean asked, concerned about his brother as he sat opposite of him.

Not knowing if he should broach the subject considering the possibility that Dean might be a little touchy, he started out carefully, "Do you think you would have killed Dad when he was possessed?"

"Where's this coming from?" Dean asked incredulously.

"Would you?" Sam pressed.

"No," Dean said without hesitation and with conviction.

"Not even when he was killing you?"

"No Sam," he said harshly, "he was possessed, remember?"

"I think I would have," Sam mumbled, ignoring Dean's last question as he picked at the label of his beer.

Dean didn't say anything to that. He was there after all. He had seen the inner struggle his little brother had when it came down to destroying the demon, destroying their father, and he was glad that Sam couldn't do it. Come to think of it, he understood why Elizabeth and Jennifer couldn't and wouldn't kill their father, but after watching Monica pull the trigger in cold blood without any kind of remorse and hatred blazing in her eyes, he started wondering if Sam would have done the exact same thing to their father since he hated the old man. _But did he really hate Dad that much?_

He knew his brother and father butted heads too often before Sam went off to college and they even butted heads when Sam came back to the family business. He was their referee after all, but he never really thought Sam – his baby brother Sammy – would ever kill their own father, his own flesh and blood. _Wait a minute Winchester, don't you go forgetting what he did to that Casey chick. But he just thought I was in grave danger. Yeah, but remember what ole Yellow-eyes said? Remember what Ruby said?_

"Sam, listen to me," Dean softly commanded. When he had his brother's eyes, those soulful puppy dog eyes that always asked and sought for comfort of any kind, he went on, "I know how you and Dad were always at each other's throats. I know how frustrated and pissed off you were at Dad, but believe me, you would _never_ ever do anything to hurt him. Maybe give him a black eye every once in a while and a foot up his ass, but _I _know you wouldn't have killed him – even if my life was at stake."

Sam nodded as he looked down at his half-finished beer, still pulling off the label and said, "You know what Jenny told me?"

"Oh, so it's 'Jenny' now?" Dean teased, trying to make light of the situation.

Ignoring him, Sam continued, "She told me that it was Monica that killed their mother in cold blood –"

"Wait a minute Sammy," Dean began defending Monica, "you saw what their father turned into. Monica had no choice in that matter, so who knows what their mother might have turned into –"

"_If _their mom had turned into anything –"

"_If_ their mom had turned into anything," Dean agreed, "but my point is, is that Monica would have never killed her parents unless she was forced to. Unless she had no choice –"

"Like I did? With Dad?"

"What do you mean?"

"I had a choice Dean. It was either you, Dad, or the demon. If I had killed that demon, Dad would've been dead too, but you would have been saved."

"We've had this discussion before Sam. None of it was your fault –"

"That's not what I mean," Sam said annoyed.

"Then what is?" Dean asked confused, now not knowing what Sammy was getting to.

Starting off quietly so that Dean was forced to lean in to catch what his brother was saying, he said, "All this time, I thought it was Elizabeth and Jennifer that were the ones not to be trusted. Now I'm thinking that the true monster is –"

"Don't Sam," Dean cut in severely, finally getting the gist of what his brother was saying, "I don't wanna hear it. She is not the monster. Her dad was. And what she did was proof enough for me to believe that she was compassionate enough to spare him –"

"'Compassionate enough?' Are you seriously high, Dean?"

"You weren't there, Sam. And –"

"And what?" Sam challenged. "You're gonna show me some proof that points to your girlfriend's innocence?"

Dean closed his mouth shut at that, but when a thought struck him, he smiled, "Actually, I can."

As he got up and abruptly strode over to his room, Sam followed him, his beer left abandoned at the table, "Where do you think you're going?"

"To find her," Dean threw back over his shoulder.

"Do you think that's wise Dean?"

"What? Am I supposed to be afraid of a woman who's a whole foot shorter than me?"

"With the guns and with unknown weapon assortment in her person, I'd say yeah, you should be scared."

Dean huffed as he made it to his room and picked up his jacket and keys, but as he made a beeline for the exit, he found it blocked by his colossal size of a brother.

"Dean, I don't think you should go alone –"

"Dude, as much as I like the idea of a threesome, I hate the idea of you entering into the mix."

"Hilarious Dean, truly hilarious. But think about it man, I don't know what your little girlfriend is capable of and I'm not about to let you walk right into a lion's den."

"Ah Sammy, you worry too much. Listen, I'll call you once I've found her, okay? Then you can hold my hand and we can approach her together. That sound good?"

Sam gave him a look at that as he got out of the way of the older man.

"Atta boy Sammy," Dean praised as he slapped his brother on the back and left.

* * *

Glancing at the clock displayed on the black Hummer's dashboard, she massaged the back of her neck with one hand while keeping the other on the wheel as she turned into a parking lot of a motel, needing the escape.

Monica knew that what she did was right from the minute she pulled the trigger, but it still didn't help make the guilt go away as it continued to eat at the very core of her soul.

After driving aimlessly around once she got out of the confines that was suffocating her with only her thoughts keeping her company, she stopped first at a liquor store to buy some Jack Daniels hoping that it would quell her screaming thoughts and provide her with some well-deserved sleep.

She at first wanted to drink the whole bottle while driving, but her common sense told her that it wouldn't be the wisest thing to do, and spotting the time, 12:30 in the morning, she spotted a fairly nice-looking motel and decided to tune in._ Or more like drink myself to sleep…_

After using an alias name and paying in cash, she grabbed her bags and gear, and made sure the windows and door was salted before sitting down with her back to the board on the queen size bed as she let her thoughts clash with one another, the bottle of Jack Daniels forgotten on the small table.

She knew what she did was right, but it sure didn't feel like it. _He was just one casualty… just one casualty_, she kept telling herself, _he had to be disposed of for the sake of all._

Problem was, that was the same thing she kept telling herself with every man, woman, and child she had killed. And the nightmares never truly stay gone.

Musing about that, she realized with both a heavy heart and with relief that the nameless people she eradicated had ceased to haunt her.

But mentioning her past profession to Sam had opened the floodgates to thoughts and memories she thought she had long forgotten.

Ten years. It's been exactly ten years ago when she so naively signed up for the CIA, wanting to make a difference, and six years of trying to prove her capabilities to her superiors by signing on to missions she knew now was a big mistake. But what doesn't break you will only make you stronger, right?

Letting out a long sigh, she wished that statement was true. The shit she went through didn't make her stronger, it made her weaker – weaker to the point that she had found herself constantly questioning her decisions and seeing the supernatural world in black and white. _I'm acting more like Gordon…_

Shuddering at that thought she let her eyes roam over to the unopened bottle of whiskey, temptation so hard to ignore, but she managed to suppress her desire to have a drink just because she knew it had never helped her before.

A sharp knock resounded on the door, startling her out of her guilt trip.

Grabbing her Desert Eagle she made her way across the carpeted room as silently as she can. Slightly opening the window curtain to peer outside, her eyes grew wide as she spotted something familiar.

Putting away her weapon, she opened the door and asked wearily, "What are you doing here?"

* * *

Glancing at the clock displayed on his baby's dashboard, he massaged the back of his neck with one hand while keeping the other on the wheel, searching eyes looking everywhere for the missing sister.

_2:00 a.m._

He'd spent the better of an hour searching for Monica and turned up blank. _She can't be that hard to track down, can she?_

Dean almost gave up his search until he made a left turn and spotted a peculiar black Hummer sitting innocently in a parking lot of a motel.

Parking right next to it, Dean contemplated about calling in the cavalry, but decided against it as he turned off his phone.

As he got out of his car and walked to the door, he felt something he had never associated before but knew exactly what he was feeling as the butterflies in his stomach made their presence more known.

He took a moment to settle the frenzy his beating heart was making by taking deep breaths before knocking on the door. He didn't have to wait long before he heard her unlocking the door to open it.

Monica opened the door and asked wearily while keeping the opening blocked, "What are you doing here?"

"Are you gonna let me in?" Dean asked, trying to use the puppy dog eyes his brother had so perfected over the years.

Letting out a sigh, she shrugged her shoulders and said as she stepped aside, "Enter at your own risk."

He raised his eyebrows at that as Sam's warning replayed in his mind. Shaking his head to clear it, he entered a bit cautiously.

The beige walls that were tastefully decorated by pictures of the outdoors and live plants all around, combined with the lush deep golden carpet, made this little motel room look welcoming.

Spotting the whiskey on the table, he asked, "You drinking that?"

Shaking her head as she sat down at the table, she said, "Help yourself. By the way, you didn't answer my question."

Taking his time filling the two shot glasses that were located near the whiskey and giving one to Monica, Dean said, "I want to know everything."

She raised an eyebrow at that, "Everything?"

"Yeah, I think I'm entitled to, don't you? Helping you track down your dad and keeping your sisters from making a mistake…must I go on?"

"Everything?" She repeated.

"Everything," he agreed, and grimacing, "And don't forget I already poured out my heart and soul to you, so now it's your turn."

Looking down into her glass, she slide it away from her and gave it to Dean sighing, "Elizabeth was Daddy's little girl. His own chip off the old block, apple never falling far from the tree sorta thing. And Jennifer was always Momma's little girl. Her own chip off the old block kind of thing."

"And whose 'little girl' were you?"

She smiled sadly at that, "No one's. Well, except my Nana's. You see, right after Lizzie was born, my parents were hoping and wishing and praying for a boy, but I came along instead. They gave me to a sweet old lady who they paid very handsomely for to take me off of their hands. I didn't care at all. Her husband died in Vietnam and she never had any kids of her own, so she was thrilled to have me. I actually even grew up thinking that _she_ was my mom."

"So then what happened?" He asked, trying very hard not to let the anger show in his voice as his jaw clenched and unclenched in fury of what her parents did to her.

"After my Nana died when I was twelve, I started doing almost anything to get my parents' attention: drugs, alcohol, even starting fights, but not at school though. I wasn't that stupid. I was taught by my Nana of the importance of education, and I saw the kind of freedom I can have with an education, so I didn't do anything to jeopardize my schooling."

"What about the fights? How did you get involved in those?"

"Enrique apparently believed enough that one should always learn to protect themselves, especially women. So he had enlisted his daughter in anything and everything that has to do with martial arts. Later on after much bitching from his wife, Jenny was enlisted too. And after much persuasion from my Nana, he grudgingly enlisted me too. What he didn't like was me beating my two sisters at everything. And as for the 'fights', let's just say I was into the whole 'vigilantly' type of the law – if a guy steals a woman's purse, I'd ran after him and kick his ass."

"And you didn't get caught?" He asked disbelievingly.

"And what about your schooling?" He asked when he saw her shaking her head in answer to his first question.

"Lizzie and Jenny both went to private schools while I went to public schools. I hated going to school, but even after my Nana died, I pushed myself for that little piece of paper that said I was a High School Graduate. I graduated from high school and at the top of my class when I was fifteen – and no, I was not a so-called 'geek'," she answered when she saw the question forming in Dean's eyes as he was opening his mouth to voice them.

"A week after I graduated, Jasmine 'disappeared'. It was reported that she was attacked in Jenny's bedroom by some crazy men and forcefully taken by them."

"So does that mean the only person who saw exactly what happened was Jennifer?"

"Exactly. But at twelve years old with two older sisters and a father, no one believed her. She repeatedly told her story to anyone who ever bothered to listen to a child, but because the story sounded ludicrous, sadly, no one believed her. She was grieving the loss of her mother, Enrique was grieving the loss of his wife, Lizzie didn't care and was struggling through her senior year, and I was busy keeping away from everyone else. And as you might have guessed, the case was never solved."

She took another deep breath before she continued, "My moment of freedom came when I joined the CIA when I turned seventeen –"

"Wait a minute. Weren't you supposed to be eighteen to sign up?"

She smiled sheepishly, "I changed my age, and no, I never got into trouble for that. I spent six months in training camp and they were going to give me a desk job. I didn't like it. I guess I wanted to be like James Bond: an actual, bona fide spy. So I fought. I persuaded my superiors to give me a field job, and I ended up signing onto any kind of mission that was presented to me."

She laughed bitterly, "Who knew the government needed their own 'cleaners'? Anything that went wrong on a mission, I had to clean it up, hence the killings I did. I spent six years traveling around the world taking out civilians whenever something didn't go right. It was the government's way of protecting themselves, and luckily for them, the fatalities had to look like 'accidents'."

"But it wasn't your fault. None of it was. You were given a direct order that needed to be carried out and –"

"I wasn't a goddamn soldier – I was a goddamn CIA agent. I _had_ a choice…and I didn't make the right one. A lot of people lost their lives for nothing, and I didn't do squat," She gritted out, unable to hide the pain from her eyes for once.

"Hey, listen to me," Dean implored, grabbing and holding her hands, their drinks forgotten, "You _are_ a good person. You cannot change what you did back then, and look at what you're doing now – you're saving people by taking down each and every single evil sonofabitches you can possibly find. And you are _not_ gonna stop until the war is over. Besides," he added with a tiny smile, "how did you get into this hunting business?"

Smiling gratefully at him for listening as well as his attempt at changing the subject, she said, "Six years after doing what I did, I took a vacation and headed back home – or at least I headed back to where Lizzie and Jenny called home. Lizzie and Jenny were also on vacation from their work at the hospitals they were working at. A few days after I got there, Lizzie and her dad were walking around their usual walking trails until some dude jumped them and attacked Enrique. All I remember from that was Lizzie barging into the house screaming that Dad was being attacked and that we should help. Once we got there loaded with weapons, we found Enrique unconscious on the floor. Before any of us knew what was happening, the police and the media got involved. Two days after the attack, your dad, John, knocked on our front doors, as a member of the 'FBI'. I knew he wasn't what he said he was the moment I laid eyes on him, but because Lizzie and Jenny were so distraught after what happened, they didn't notice the phony FBI badge or the piss poor performance you dad put on – no offense."

"None taken," he said, highly amused as he can see his dad being red under the collar as Monica interrogated him on his legitimacy.

"Well, just as soon as he started his investigation, Enrique escaped from his confines at a hospital. Soon afterward, John tracked him down to an abandoned warehouse and…well, let's just say Enrique gave him a run for his money. John got infuriated with me when I showed up and scared Enrique away, only injuring him. After that, I demanded the truth from John and I helped him locate the next location Enrique might've gone next. This time I made the mistake of bringing my sisters along to help with the hunt. And as you probably already guessed, the hunt was jeopardized when Lizzie and Jenny made sure John and I didn't kill the werewolf, forcing it to flee far from where we found it. After that, John berated me and told me I should ditch my sisters if I was serious in becoming a hunter."

"Huh, I think you should've heeded his advice. So who taught your sisters how to shoot?"

"I did. I taught them everything I knew from my experiences at the CIA. Since then, we've never really looked back. We quit our jobs and started this life."

"So how did you manage to meet Gordon and Bela?"

"About two years after we learned what was really out there, we went to Alabama when we heard about a vampire infestation. Upon investigating, we…we uh, met our mother. It was then that we found out that the 'men' that attacked her and kidnapped her were vampires. Lizzie and Jenny, especially Jenny, were hell bent in wanting to find some kind of cure to save her – and just like with Enrique, they pretty much thwarted every chance I got to exterminate her. Well, that's when we met Gordon. He came to Alabama to get his hands on vampires. Now we just kinda crossed paths and he inadvertently insulted us by saying that we as women were not capable in any way to get involved in the hunting world and to bugger off."

"Let me guess, you showed him otherwise by saving him from a vampire."

"How'd you –? Never mind. So anyway, he showed us that he was such a cool guy, and I actually liked him in a sense that I had something in common with him – or so I thought."

"So what happened? What happened that made you change your mind about him?"

"Jasmine decided she wanted her daughter to be with her. She kidnapped Jenny and of course Lizzie and I rushed to save her. Gordon on the other hand, followed us and wanted to exterminate each and every piece of shit – regardless if Jenny was in the way. We had to stop him –"

"How?" Dean asked quickly.

"We knocked him out. I was wanting to hog tie him and dump him at the vampires' front door – either that or at least break both his legs – but Lizzie wanted to do the safe orthodox way which was to knock him unconscious, tie him up, and leave him in an alleyway. Unfortunately, we did just that."

"Why 'unfortunately'?"

Shrugging her shoulder, she said simply, "He deserved worse than that. "

Dean smirked, "Couldn't agree with you more. So how did you manage to get out of that?"

"We got there just in time before Jasmine fed vampire blood to Jenny, and even though both Jenny and Lizzie begged me not to shoot, I did. I shot an arrow dipped in dead man's blood and just when she was weakened by it, I cut her head off with a machete," she finished in coldness, eyes showing no kind of remorse.

"You know you had to do it, right? Besides, how'd your sisters handle it?" Dean asked, knowing the cold unreadable expression she was showing was really hiding the deep raw pain she was no doubt feeling.

Shaking her head, she said, "It still doesn't make it much easier. It was either her or Jenny, and quite frankly, that wasn't a hard thing to consider. And as for my sisters, I kicked their asses and cuffed them to whatever was available at the time."

Dean smiled at that, truly smiled, and asked, "How'd you meet Bela?"

Monica stiffened at the name, "To make _that_ story extremely short, she cost us an innocent. Apparently acquiring special artifacts were more important than the life of an innocent. So I took the liberty of breaking her nose."

Dean stood shell shocked by that, "Now how did _that_ happen?"

"After the death of an innocent little girl, we confronted her about her end of the deal –"

"Wait – deal?"

"The 'deal' was that we would lead her and help acquire a damn stupid artifact, and in return, she would help us with a very nasty vengeful spirit. The little girl that was targeted by the spirit was killed by it. The problem was that Bela was right there. She could've done something, but she didn't. So when we confronted her, I don't know…I just lost it. I snapped. I punched her over and over, and if it wasn't for Lizzie and Jenny, Bela would've been killed, by my hands, no less."

Dean sighed wistfully, "What I wouldn't give to be in your position."

Monica huffed, "You'd probably have dirty angry sex."

He shifted uncomfortable at that as his mind tugged at a memory when Bela said exactly that, "So what happened after that?"

She shrugged, "We started tracking Enrique and killing every evil SOB along the way. But right now, I want to discuss you."

"Me? Uh, how did Elizabeth meet her husband?" He asked, keeping his eyes trained on a hole of his jeans.

"Nice. Boy meets girl, girl meets boy, they fell in love, and they got married. Now, about you –"

"Have you seen Ellen at all? How is she?" Dean asked, desperately trying to keep the subject off of him.

"She's working at the same bar as her daughter, and I hear she's planning on rebuilding the Roadhouse at the same location. I also hear her daughter is infatuated with you," she said, amused, "Now let's talk about you, shall we?"

Dean sighing in defeat, said, "What do you want to know? You already know everything."

"Here," she said suddenly, shoving a piece of paper toward him.

"What's this?" He asked as he examined the contents of the paper.

"It's my number as well as Lizzie's number and Jenny's number, and the locations of our homes throughout the U.S."

"Why? And I thought your dad disowned you?"

"He did, but thanks to Lizzie and Jenny, they gave me some property of my own."

"But why?" he asked again, looking at her with the paper in one hand.

"Let's just say that there will come a day you might need it," she informed cryptically, "but promise me you won't tell Sam. I want what we discussed here to be between you and me, but whatever you do, do not, under any circumstances, tell Sam anything."

"Why?" he asked truly perplexed as he slipped the piece of paper in his jacket pocket, "you don't trust him?"

"You'll find out soon enough. And now, there is something I want to discuss with you."

"If you're wanting to discuss my deal, then you can forget about it," Dean glared at her.

"Dean," she started frustratingly, glaring right back, "_we_ can help _you_. We've done this before –"

"NO!" Dean shouted, "I don't _want_ your help. You know what'll happen to Sam? He'll die if I try anything to get myself out of the deal. I just can't – I won't. I made a mistake, and I'll pay for it."

"What do you mean you made a 'mistake'?"

"I shouldn't have –" he stopped short before beginning again, "My dad sold his soul for me when I was supposed to be dead, and now I've sold my soul when Sam died. Don't you see? We screwed up the natural balance, the natural order, of life. I should have died when it was my time. My dad should have never –"

"Dean, stop it," she ordered harshly, eyes blazing in anger, "just stop it. I don't know how you grew up thinking less of yourself. You are by far the smartest, bravest, unselfish good person I have ever met, so don't you _dare_ think little of yourself. You know what? Scratch all of that. I think you're an ass. One huge –"

She was cut off as Dean leaned across the small table and kissed her long and hard. Time stood still for both of them as Dean maneuvered around the table to reach her better. Monica snapped out of it before she completely lost herself to the sweetness of it. Putting both hands on his chest, she forcefully pushed him away, breaking the kiss.

Breathing hard as if she had ran a marathon, she struggled out of the chair and turned her back on him as she walked to the other side of the room. She took a moment to marvel at what had happened and the sensation she felt with just that one kiss as she tried to calm down her wildly beating heart. The dates she went on, the kisses she had share with other guys – all of it had never came close to what she was experiencing right now; that little spark of electricity that was still coursing through her was all she needed to realize the possibility of their relationship. And all of a sudden, she grew afraid. She was afraid of what might happen next.

Breathing hard himself just as if he too had ran a marathon, he stood where he was at as he too marveled at what had happened. After all the women he's been with, not one of them – not even Cassie – had made him feel like that. The spark of electricity he felt coursing through his body was like no other sensation he had experienced. With that thought in mind, he too grew afraid of what would happen next, but he knew deep down in his very soul that he didn't want to let her go.

"What happened back in the park?" he asked gently, as he tried to calm both of them down, hoping that the change of subject would help alleviate the electric tension in the air, "I mean when I died…I know I died…I saw Hell…but how?"

Turning to face him, concern etched all over her face, she said in a shaky breath, "You tell me. I just remember you dying in my arms, but I don't know what happened. All of a sudden, you just came back. I don't know how, but you did."

Smiling tentatively in gratitude at her, feeling that if it wasn't for her, he would still be in hell, he said, "Well, whatever you did, uh, thanks."

And without further ado on either of their parts, he crossed the distance in one long stride and pulled her into a kiss. This time instead of her bringing her hands up to stop him, she snaked her arms around his neck as she met his demanding kiss with one of her own.

Growling deep down in his throat in delight, he picked her up and placed her on the bed, never once breaking the connection their lips seemed to want. Once atop of her, he started trailing and exploring the depths of her neck with his lips, wanting to take his sweet time and taking pleasure in hearing her moan in protest, knowing that he was making her impatient.

As his lips started exploring each part of her skin he was exposing, she shoved her knee in his ribs to throw him off of her as she rolled on top of him. Torturing him like he tortured her, she took her time in doing the same thing and taking pleasure as she felt him tremble with her touch.

It wasn't until when she placed her hand on the zipper of his jeans that their playful manner turned serious. Kissing her like he had never kissed her before, he moved her under him as their desire for one another mounted with each passing second.

Piece by piece as their clothes were thrown and left in disarray around the room, the passionate moans of pleasure and satisfaction coming from the couple occupying the queen-size bed never seemed so right in a dark time such as that.

**TBC...**

A/N: Just one more chapter to go and this story will be done! And just a little reminder: this is my very first attempt at writing fan fiction and so this is my very first story. If you love the girls, if you hate the girls, or if you think they're alright, please let me know. I really need to know what works and what doesn't. If you think the little sex scene was too inappropriate, then please let me know! Pretty please leave a review! ;D


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: A huge, gigantic THANKS to darksupernatural for EVERYTHING! :D YOU GO GIRL! A huge thanks also goes out to Muffy Morrigan and Merisha for EVERYTHING as well! All three of you ROCKS! :D AND THANKS to all those who read and reviewed! I truly appreciated it!! :D

A/N: I just want to apologize to those who I still haven't emailed back! I truly and sincerely appreciated all the feedback and I will get back to you ASAP! Thanks! Enjoy...

**Chapter 9**

"Damn it Dean," Sam growled out, nearly slamming his cell phone down on the table in frustration as he tried calling his brother for the past hour or so.

"Jesus kid, learn to take care of your stuff, why don't ya?" Bobby lightly chastised.

"Dean hasn't answered his phone. What if –"

"Sam, Dean's fine. He probably found Monica and they're probably having themselves a good time."

"How well do you know the sisters, Bobby?"

"Well enough," Bobby replied, suddenly more interested in a marble sculptor located in the den.

As Dean left to look for Monica, Bobby and Sam had let the girls out of the confines of their rooms. Pissed as ever, the girls had decided to get rid of the body themselves and any evidence in the basement.

After that was said and done, Sam and Bobby decided to play the waiting game in the den, waiting for Dean and Monica to come back, while the girls decided to clean up the mess in the game room that the brothers used as their wrestling ring.

"Bobby," Sam said impatiently, and waited for Bobby to settle his gaze on him before continuing, "Jennifer told me that Monica killed their mother in cold blood. Did you know about that?"

"Now listen here, boy," Bobby said crossly, "there are things about them you don't wanna know, and I suggest you keep your nose out of it. What they've done is nothing compared to what I did."

Sam blinked at that as his mind started whirling, wondering exactly what his old friend had meant by that.

"What were you doing when you called me several days ago?" Sam asked innocently.

Bobby shifted uncomfortably in his seat at that and grumbled, "Trying to find something that might help that brother of yours."

"Bobby," Sam pleaded, using his very effective puppy dog eyes, "what were you doing?"

Even Bobby, like so many others before him, could not deny the younger Winchester's request for information, "I uh, I was in Utah gathering some stuff. Before that, I was in Texas, Ohio, Georgia, and North Dakota…just gathering stuff."

"What kind of stuff?" Sam questioned curiously.

After a long pause, Bobby spoke, "You've heard of the demon, Orobas, right?"

Sam nodded, "Yeah, the demon who can tell the past, present, and future, why?"

"He can also make deals, Sam," Bobby informed, looking down on the wood floor beneath his feet.

"Don't tell me you made a deal, Bobby?"

"I didn't sell my _soul_, if that's what you mean," Bobby said defensively, "but I did make a deal of some sorts."

Looking at Sam squarely in the eyes, he went on, "I was in Kansas hunting down a demon. Now I didn't know what kind of a demon I was after, but before I did some more digging around, the demon showed up when I least expected and pinned me to a wall. He told me he wasn't going to harm me if I did what I was told."

"What does that mean?" Sam asked perplexed.

"He told me he knew about the new 'circumstance' Dean was in with the deal, and he said he could save him."

"Why?"

"I don't know why. He just said that he has twenty legions under his command and that they are all ready to fight alongside you in this war – _when_ you are ready to do so."

"'When'? Does that mean he saw me leading the demon army in the future?" Sam asked aghast, suddenly feeling he should drown himself in a glass of whiskey.

"Listen to me Sam, you are _not_ going to be a leader of any demonic army, ya hear me?"

"But Bobby, this is Orobas we're talking about. From what I know, his predictions are hardly ever wrong."

"Sam," Bobby soothed, "we still have time to change the future, and hopefully save that idgit brother of yours."

"But how is Orobas going to save him? What does he want?"

"According to him, he said that there are rare relics stashed in the depths of the world, all of which he has in his possession, except five of them. He told me that he wanted me to retrieve the five relics, give them to him, and he'll save Dean."

"What kind of relics? Why does he want them? Why does he want you to retrieve them? How many do you have? Where are the others?" Sam fired rapidly.

"Whoa kid," Bobby chuckled, "calm down; one question at a time."

Clearing his throat, he continued, "I can't exactly say what kind of relics they are because the four that I have don't look anything alike. One's an old Spanish coin, the other is a small emerald ring that looks like you can buy it at a ninety-seven cent store, the third one is an ancient-looking letter cutter, and the last is a locket heirloom. I'm just missing one and all I knew was that they were located in North Dakota, Georgia, Ohio, Texas, and Utah, but unfortunately, the one in Utah isn't there anymore."

"What do you mean?"

Bobby looked at Sam and said, "It's here, actually"

When Sam continued looking quizzically at him, Bobby asked, "Before Oregon, where were you and Dean?"

"In Utah, but –" Sam cut himself off as his eyes grew wide like saucers, and he asked, "You don't suppose Dean and me have a-a relic, do you?"

"I'm not 'supposing' anything, Sam. I _know_."

"How could you –"

"It seems that I'm now able to locate the relics. I don't know how or what, but he assured me it will go away just as soon as I find all five of them."

"Then where is it?"

"Dean has it."

"What –?" Sam asked, but then his eyes grew wide again, "You mean Dean's amulet? His amulet is a relic?"

"Yep, but I don't know why Orobas wants the relics. I mean, at first glance, there doesn't seem to be any significance to them. But I'm pretty sure it ain't gonna be good, and I'm guessin' I'm not the only human he made a deal with."

"So what do we do?" Sam asked.

Bobby pushed a piece of paper in which he had hastily scribbled towards him, and signaled him to not read it aloud.

_'What Orobas don't know is that the relic Dean has is a twin of another. I have that twin.'_

Clearing his throat, Bobby said quite loudly, "Uh, we'll just ask Dean for it."

Sam scribbled something down and passed it over to Bobby as he too talked loudly, "Do you think he'll give it to us?"

_'Don't you think he'll notice? Is he here? Watching us?'_

"He's gonna have to if he wants to save his life," Bobby said after reading Sam's note.

_'My bet is that he won't notice, but I won't rule out that he's watching us.'_

"So I guess we'll just have to wait for Dean," Sam suggested after reading what Bobby scribbled.

* * *

"Did you think your dad was telling the truth about Lilith's demon buddies coming here to wreck havoc?" Dean asked, softly stroking Monica's arm.

After feeding the fuel of their desires for one another, lying in bed together seemed the most natural perfect way to spend the rest of the night.

"Huh, I didn't think of that when I left," she said, and sighing, "I guess I should be glad I didn't meet any demons on my way out."

"What is that suppose to mean?" he asked as he looked at her absorbedly, trying to savor the moment and somehow engrave it into his memory forever.

"Well, after Enrique, I just felt like I wanted to kill anything supernatural that crosses my way, which is why I wish Lilith and her demons would've come pounding on the door. But anyway…how did Bela die?"

Dean blinked a couple of times at the sudden change of topic and cleared his throat, clearly uncomfortable as he was not expecting the question, "She uh, she was killed by hell hounds."

"She sold her soul?" she asked incredulously, "For what?"

Shaking his head, he said, "I don't know, but I know she had Lilith kill her parents for her."

"Dean –"

"No. We discussed this and I've already told you why."

"'_We'_ didn't discuss anything. You bitched and I listened."

"I bitched?" he asked amused as the corners of his lips twitched in a smile.

"Dean, you won't even have to step into Hell if you'd just let us help you, and I sure as hell won't let you. What do you think Sam would say if you willingly serve yourself up to them?"

"Monica, what would you do if it was one of your sisters?"

"What do you mean?"

"Wouldn't you sell your soul for any of them if they died unexpectedly?"

"No," she answered without hesitation, "As cruel as life is, if it's their time, then there's nothing I can do…and nor would I ever want to."

"So it's safe to assume that you and your sisters aren't close then?"

"We never were and you know why. But if you don't want to talk about your deal, then why not tell me something about this? Assuming that it is at least one safe issue to approach." she said, changing the subject as she held up Dean's amulet.

Sighing in content as the memory began playing before him, he held it up and smiled, "This was a gift from Sam. Bobby gave it to him to give to dad for Christmas, but since he failed to show up, Sam gave it to me instead. And I've never taken it off since."

"Never?" she teased, their earlier discussion forgotten.

"Never," he confirmed proudly.

"Well, we'll just have to see about that, won't we?" she smiled seductively as she moved on top of him.

* * *

"This sucks out loud," Jennifer whined as she swept broken glass in the game room.

"What does?" Elizabeth asked as she picked up broken pieces of wood that was too big to be thrown in a regular trash can.

"This. All of this," she said as she waved her arms around the entire place.

"Jenny, we'll fix this, okay? Whatever broke in here we will certainly replace –" Elizabeth started, thinking that was what her sister was talking about.

"That's not what I'm talking about. I'm talking about you and me and Monica and what happened with Dad."

"Jenny, my head is gonna explode if you don't start making sense."

"Lizzie," Jennifer said as she stopped what she was doing, "It's just that I know how you're hurting. I know because that's how I felt when Mom died. And it took me a long while to realize and come to terms with the reason why our sister took out Mom. It was too late for her, just like it was too late for Dad."

"But Jenny, she didn't have to –" Elizabeth protested as she too stopped what she was doing, finally realizing what her sister was discussing.

"Yes, she did," she said as she swallowed hard, "there was no other choice. She did what she had to do because of _us_. She saved us the pain and heartache from even the slightest idea of murdering our own parents."

"So? That shouldn't have been a problem. I mean, she's killed plenty before!" Elizabeth exclaimed.

"Yes, she has," Jennifer agreed calmly, "but I don't think it has been easy on her. I shouldn't be the one to tell you this, but uh, in case you haven't noticed, Monica has had nightmares about what she had done."

"I know about the nightmares, but you're _assuming_ that that's the reason, are you?" Elizabeth questioned skeptically.

"Lizzie, if you had pulled your head out of your ass in time and quit worrying about getting back to _your_ husband, you would have noticed the signs."

Elizabeth didn't look the least bit shock from that statement, "So what the hell are you saying?"

"Forgive her. Forgive her for what she did because you and I know now that it was the right thing to do. She doesn't need to carry around our shit on her shoulders. She needs us just as much as we need her."

Elizabeth huffed out a sigh, "I'll think about it, okay? Just give me a few days, maybe months to figure stuff out, alright? Not mere minutes after we salted and burned Dad."

"Fine," Jennifer acquiesced.

"Fine," Elizabeth repeated, "So was that what was bothering you?"

"Huh?"

"You said that it 'sucks out loud'. You were referring to Monica, weren't you?"

"Oh, I was more referring to the fact that we're cleaning up after the Winchesters. You know what? Next time they decide to do something like this, we should make _them_ clean it up."

Sighing exasperatedly as she turned away from her sister, Elizabeth glanced at her watch and added, "Besides, Monica's not here. You don't think Lilith and her goons got her, do you?"

Shaking her head, Jennifer replied as she grabbed her broom and started sweeping again, "Lizzie, you and I both know that Dad was probably yanking our chain. Sam and Bobby no doubt checked the perimeter for any demonic activity and found none."

Picking up another fairly large piece of wood that looked like it came from the pool table, Elizabeth asked, "Then why isn't she here already and helping us clean up the mess? Maybe after this, we'll go look for her."

"Why? Dean's already out there looking for her."

"Yeah, but I don't think he'll be able to find her."

"I doubt that."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, if Dean is anything like Sam, then I shouldn't be worried."

"And what's _that_ suppose to mean?" Elizabeth inquired sharply, looking at her sister.

Jennifer blinked a couple of more times as her mind frantically searched for an absolutely good reason, but came out with, "Uh…well…"

"What did you do?"

"Nothing…or at least nothing that I regret," Jennifer smiled slyly.

_"What did you do?"_

* * *

"What in tarnation are you doing now, boy?" Bobby asked as he saw Sam striding into the family office.

Picking up a map of the U.S., a red marker, and a ruler, Sam strode back into the den and settled the map on the large coffee table. Using the marker and ruler, he made points and drew lines on the map of the exact locations of where the relics were said to be.

"A pentagram?" Bobby said in wonder as he looked over Sam's shoulder once he was done.

"A pentagram," Sam confirmed as he moved back a little to let Bobby see more closely, "another damn pentagram."

"But it doesn't mean anything," Bobby pointed out, "except where Orobas was at," he added as he pointed his finger at Kansas which was situated right in the middle.

"Don't be so sure about that, Bobby," Sam refuted, "What if the five points are locations, army posts of where his legions are, and what if Kansas is like an army base?"

"Whatever it is, it can't be anything good. And we have to get Dean out of his deal so we can't check out the locations…but I think we could send the girls to check 'em out."

"Bobby –"

"Sam, whether you want to believe it or not, they _can_ be trusted. They are reliable as you and me. They're pretty damn good hunters. A little naïve, a little green, very inexperienced, but once they get the gist of something, they're alright. Not as good as you boys, but they'll get there eventually. But if you still don't trust them, then you're sayin' you don't trust _me_? _Do_ you trust me?"

Sam was about to respond when a familiar face appeared on the threshold of the den, looking extremely guilty like a dog with its tail between his legs, but determined nonetheless.

* * *

As the small rays of sunrise leisurely filtered into the room through a crack in the curtains, Dean couldn't help but wonder for the millionth time of what he wanted to do would be the right thing to do.

_Do I love her? Is it even really love?_ The thoughts kept flowing through his mind in rapid speed to the thrum of his heartbeat. True, he had never, not once in a million years, felt like that with any other woman. Not even when he was with Cassie. Leaving them without a backwards glance was always easy for him, but he wouldn't know if it would be just as easy this time.

If Dean was really being honest with himself, he would know that what he had found at that moment was actually the real thing, but he refused to think about it. Partly because he knew how much it would hurt him if he left, and how much it would hurt him if he stayed, as well as how much it would hurt her if he left or stayed.

Just the idea of leaving her was unimaginable even to him, but he knew that she would be in danger if he stuck around her much longer. And for once in his life, he knew he would regret whatever outcome of his decision. But either way, it had to be done.

Looking at the sleeping form right beside him, he couldn't help but smile as he looked at her; to him, she looked seemingly fragile as she curled up next to his big strong durable form.

Drinking in the pleasurable scene with his eyes, he sighed resignedly as he moved carefully and silently out of bed.

She looked more fragile to him now that he was standing to his full height and looking down at the peaceful way she was sleeping.

Sighing sadly, he started picking up his discarded clothes and began putting them back on before sitting down on a small cozy chair by a window to watch her while she slept on.

As he continued watching her, barely stirring within the warm cocoon of blankets, he began contemplating again whether or not if it was the right thing to do. He knew that she was one tough cookie, knew that she could handle whatever life threw her way, but he felt the need, the unexpected need, to protect her, and that what was saddening him greatly: the idea of not being there to protect her, to love her, to want to need her. _She's no doubt gonna marry the first guy that asks her, and she's gonna bear his children instead of mine._

That thought tore another hole into his already bruised heart. Seeing her stir a little more as she tried clambering up from the thick tempting walls of sleep, Dean quickly shook himself out of his reverie, and very stealthily slipped out of the room.

Starting his baby and listening to the loud roar of life coming from the engine, he stole one quick glance at his could be future, wondering for the millionth time if he was doing the right thing. Swallowing the lump that had suddenly formed in his throat as his eyes glistened with unshed tears, he cleared his throat and set his jaw as he pulled out of the parking space and headed straight back to Sam without so much as a backwards glance.

* * *

"What are you doing here?" Sam asked as he was cut off from answering Bobby's question at the sight of his brother.

"Didn't you miss me?" Dean smirked, trying to act like his old self.

Sam took in the guilty expression that his brother tried and failed to hide, "What happened? You look like you were sent to the doghouse. She already kicked you out?"

Dean was about to snap before he caught sight of the corners of his brother's lips as they were twitching up in mirth, Sam's eyes dancing in amusement. Dean also caught sight of Bobby trying to hide his own smile.

Giving out a smile of his own, Dean said, "I could say the same about you once Elizabeth finds out about you and Jennifer."

His smile grew wide as he saw his brother squirm in discomfort, "So I say we shag ass and leave before the sisters find out. Deal?"

"Wait a minute, Dean," Sam said once he finally got his discomfort at a manageable level, "you want to just leave? What about getting them to get you out of _your_ deal? I mean, what would they think if we just took advantage of them and just leave? Without a word?"

Dean's face harden at that, "It's what we do, Sam. We use 'em and we leave 'em. That's that. And they are not going to help. I won't let them."

"Dean," Sam began as he once again tried to use his puppy dog face.

"Sam," Bobby interjected, putting a hand on the younger man's shoulder, "if Dean doesn't want the sisters' help, then we can't force him, but there's the _other_ option of saving him," Bobby finished cryptically.

"Guys, if you mean the deal-making demon that wants this," Dean said as he brandished his amulet, "than fat chance. No one is making any kind of deals tonight," he finished harshly.

Bobby looked at him strangely, "How'd you know what we were talking about?"

"While you two were looking at that map," Dean started, nodding his head at the map, "I overheard you two. Oh, and by the way, I went on ahead and took the liberty of packing our stuff. I'll be waiting in the car," he finished as he stormed out of the room and slammed the front door shut, leaving Bobby and Sam dumbfounded at Dean's unexpected outburst. Sam was sure that whatever happened must not be good as he and Bobby looked at each other once in bewilderment before numbly followed in Dean's wake.

Striding to the passenger side of the Impala, Sam gave a small sigh of relief at finding the door open and not closed as he feared that his brother might've left him to deal with three very pissed off sisters. Stretching out his tall frame as he settled himself in his seat, he glanced at Dean as his brother started up the car and prepared to follow their old friend to wherever the road led, noticing for once that his brother didn't rush to find a good, classic, rock song for the occasion but instead losing himself in his thoughts.

Knowing that his brother hated uncomfortable silence, Sam hastily searched for a topic – any topic – that might get Dean out of his brooding mood, and began, "You know how pissed Monica would be when she finds out you skipped town, right?"

_Okay, so I shouldn't have brought that one up,_ Sam thought when he saw the older man's nostrils flare up, the clenching and unclenching of his jaw, and the knuckles on the steering wheels turning white as Dean refused to answer.

Sam gave out a loud frustrated, exasperated sigh and cleared his throat before starting again, this time going for the jugular, "You know what Dean? You're an ass. I'm guessing you slept with her, right? And now you're running away from her with your tail tuck between your legs."

He soon fell silent when Dean didn't so much as respond to that, but before he could think of another tactic, he heard his brother huffed a sigh in annoyance.

Dean took a minute before replying as he drove on, smirk and amusement firmly planted in his voice and in his face, "Dude, is that the best you can come up with? I mean, look who's talking. You're no doubt running away from _both_ Jennifer _and_ Elizabeth."

A tiny smile played on Sam's features, "So what do we do now?"

"Now that we're fugitives under the female radar?" Dean asked, cocking a brow at his brother.

At Sam's nod, Dean continued, shrugging a shoulder, "I say we run as far and away from here and them as we possibly can. What do you say?"

Sam took his gaze away from the breathtaking view of the outside as the world started awakening and turned to look at his brother, "I say that's fine by me…only just as long as they find you first, jerk."

Dean took his eyes out of road for a second to glance at his brother, "Bitch."

The tension that had settled in the air between them a while ago had dissipated just as quickly as it began, leaving both brothers with a new sense of hope as the Chevy continued to eat the blacktop and leave everything else behind.

**The End...**

A/N: Once again, thanks to those who stood by me for the long haul! I'm grateful for it! :D Now, even though this is the end of the 'Struggle Within', it is not the end of the story. I am planning on having two sequels following this one, and I promise you - 110% guarantee that it will be tons better than this one. It'll have much more suspense, action, and the mythology will deepen tremendously. Everybody will be back including Ruby, Castiel, Lilith, and Agent Henricksen (yep, he doesn't die in my story :D). That sound good? One more thing. This story was technically supposed to be an introduction of the sisters, and I had wanted to make them likable. If y'all still don't like 'em or don't trust them in any way, then please let me know how I can fix them. How can I redeem them? I'm all up for suggestions! If y'all have any ideas, please don't hesitate to let me know! :D And again, thanks for reading and reviewing!!! :D

V.


End file.
